


The Colors

by Control_Room



Series: The Big Picture [15]
Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Age, Army Draft, Art, Atomic Energy Commission, Bathing/Washing, Coming Out, Complicated Relationships, Depression, Domestic, Dreams, Engagement, Euphemisms, Family, Ferris Wheel, Forgiveness, Growth, Healing, Health problems, Hugs, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Hypothermia, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Innuendo, Kindness, Kisses, Klinefelter Syndrome, Los Alamos, Love, M/M, Magic, Marriage Proposal, Medical Conditions, Medical Procedures, Memories, Memory Loss, Morality, Morning Kisses, Painting, Parents, Period Typical Attitudes, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Reconciliation, Reminiscing, Repercussions, Resets, Romance, SCIENCE!, Science, Science Fairs, Second Chances, Seizures, Shawn being Shawn, Siblings, Sickfic, Sleepy Cuddles, Speech Disorders, Suggestive Themes, Sweet, Symbolism, Trying again, WWII, Workaholism, World War II, accepting time, boris is a good cook, fluster, gem meanings, good parenting, happiness, hiroshima and nagasaki, historical events, human psychology, learning, mercy and justice, oh my god so many kisses, prose, soft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:14:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 60,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25574167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Control_Room/pseuds/Control_Room
Summary: Joey Drew has been through more than he would like to admit.But he's not alone.His family is there for him.
Relationships: Joey Drew/Henry Stein
Series: The Big Picture [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1254296
Comments: 21
Kudos: 8





	1. Hues

What color do you think of when you hear the word ‘happiness’?

Most people would easily answer yellow without a second thought. 

It snares the attention of people, it is bright, enthusiastic, suave, and the color of sunshine.

Just as joy is yellow, sadness is blue. 

Humans have intrinsically tied color to emotion, as a means to transfer information when words cannot possibly suffice. 

Red is passionate anger, purple is melancholy thought, orange is energized optimism, green is free growth, brown is fulfilling work, black is ensnaring depression, white is pure peace.

So much is nigh universal. 

Henry was Joey’s shining gold Ray of sunshine, said light refracting through his hair and glistening like a polished crown, even as he approached him with wide eyes full of apology and lips sealed like a gilded statue. 

Joey felt himself as many colors, all dull and muted, all merging to form a grey haze.

Not a word could make it through his mouth, not a word formed in his brain.

His mind was grey, conjecture holding itself out of his grasp, so close and so far all at once. 

They looked at one another. 

There was an inescapable mamihlapinatapai that the two shared, the sensation encasing the room, keeping their distinctive eyes; one set rubies made from sad, the other pair perfect earthen globes of wonderment; locked upon one another, not examining the other’s face. Their eyes were still like a photograph of a waterfall - ensnaring the thunderous movement, yet betraying none. 

Henry sank to his knees before the man that had sold his own body to buy back his life and soul, even though he knew all his sins and faultlines. 

Joey watched silently, unsure of what to say or do, figure standing tall above a groveling body, feeling out of touch and place.

“I am sorry,” Henry spoke with as much conviction his sore, dry, and tight throat could produce. One hand gripped Joey’s shoe, the other a shaking fist by his side. “I am so sorry, for everythin-”

In a smooth motion, Johan slipped to his own knees, and cupped his hands around the other’s jaw to hold him steady and quiet the flow of words.

“You are forgiven,” mercy spoke. “Though, you have hurt me. I will never f-forget.”

“Nor do I expect you to,” Henry replied, even as his heart felt a bit lighter from where it had sunk down in his chest. “How can I make it up to you?”

Johan’s mind was grey.

He knew of ways Henry _could_ potentially soothe the pain he had caused, but there were so many, and most were contradictory. He had no words to say once more, as any he would say could become null by the very next ones. 

Henry read his thoughts with ease, and placed his hand over Joey’s, the clenched fist buried in his side softening to press to the calloused and scarred one on his cheek.

“I will accept anything,” Henry assured him, smiling. It was not a smile of pure yellow, more of a green one, tinged with melancholy, yet still overjoyed from the mere thought of another chance. “Maybe we can work it out together. Something that you’re comfortable with that I can fulfill.”

“Perhaps,” Johan murmured, and wrapped his arms over Henry’s shoulders, pulling himself to his chest with a shuddering exhale. His body seemed to fold in on itself as tension seeped through him into the ground, Henry’s broad hands rubbing circles onto his back, each motion bringing another wave of relaxation through Johan’s tense body. “I missed you, Henry.”

“I missed you, too, Johan,” Henry whispered in reply, squeezing him in a light hug, turning his head to inhale his redolence, the honeyed cinnamon a balm on his very soul. “You smell like yourself again.”

“Oh?” Johan’s voice betrayed a touch of amusement, his eyes still closed but lips twitching up. “What did I s-smell like before?”

“Ink and fire,” Henry murmured, breathing deeply once more, making Joey giggle a bit as his stubble tickled under his ear. “A _lot_ of ink. So much that it almost _looked_ like fumes were coming off of you. Which they probably were.”

“It is a possibility,” Joey responded languidly after a moment of thought. “Though one I don’t think is true. We d-did not program the ink to cause lightheadedness or other fume causations.”

“Well, maybe you should get that checked,” Henry chuckled slightly, “because every time I saw you I swooned.”

“You awful degenerate,” Johan admonished, though snorted as he spoke. He sighed and rested his head on Henry’s shoulder more comfortably than the previous way his chin resided there, nodding in acceptance and approval. “Ah, I missed you terribly….”

“As I you,” Henry smoothly rejoined. He hesitated, then inquired quietly, “Can I kiss your cheek?”

“You…” Joey paused a moment, eyes tightening a second, though he relaxed instantaneously. “You may, Henry. Though we _must_ speak about intimacy l-later.”

“Agreed,” Henry nodded, and did as he requested, the motion chaste and loving. He whispered on his cheek, “God, I love you. I’m so sorry.”

“I love you, too,” he replied, turning to kiss his cheek as well. “And this is why I f-forgive you. Because I love you, and trust you to get better.”

“I promise you that I will,” he swore. “Every minute, I’ll do my best to be the man you _deserve_.”

“Oh, Henry,” Joey sighed, pulling away to look him in the eyes. “I’m so proud of-f you already.”

“You deserve to be even more proud of me,” Henry assured him, his hands on his arms and fingertips circling in comfort. “And I’ll make sure you will be.”

As if an unseen force moved them, their heads tilted and came close, though the moment before their lips would meet, their knuckles brushed as they placed their hands over each other’s lips.

They looked at one another, bewildered, then laughed, foreheads touching.

“Not yet?” Joey inquired, quirking a brow.

“Not yet,” Henry echoed, eyes sparkling in pride and mirth. He kissed Johan’s nose, making the man squeak, hiding his face in his hands. Henry laughed once more, wrapping him in his arms. “But we’ll be ready sooner or later, eh?”

“Mhm,” Johan hummed, cuddling into his chest. “Preferably sooner.”

***

Sitting at the table felt like a meeting of two diplomats, though said ‘diplomats’ were quite hellbent on being able to hold each other’s hands. It was rather endearing to watch them go over papers of almost a legal statute, their quiet questions the only breach of a comfortable silence.

Their accommodations seemed to be nearly identical, both involving an increase of communication as well as upping some physical distances. However, at a certain clause, Johan rose a brow, raising a hand to stop Henry from asking anything, as he inquired, “The couch?”

“Well,” Henry blushed, and cleared his throat, “You see, I don’t want to impose on you at all. However, I still want to be around the kids. Be… more of a presence for them. Less of the absentee I had been. So, in order to not crowd your bed, and to not move back into my old place, I thought that the couch here would be a good middle ground.”

“I see,” Joey remarked quietly, and Henry could see brilliantly tuned gears turning in those red eyes. He wondered in awe at what could be going on in that brain of his. “Well, that is v-very accommodatable and quite understandable. Now, on the topic of the children… their memories are rather like swiss cheese for this period. They are only aware of the circumstances, I noted that their maturity had b-been static for a rather long period. How d-do you propose breaching this entire situation to them?”

“Honestly.”

At the raise of Joey’s brow, Henry flushed, realizing that his word could have been taken as one of affront instead of a reply.

“I meant as in with honesty,” he backtracked to explain, smiling sheepishly and rubbing the back of his neck. Johan’s mouth formed an ‘o’ of understanding, nodding slightly. “I don’t want them to think that I’m some sort of godly figure because of my absence, or cause any resentment or mystery because we won’t tell them what happened. No, none of that. Explain to them I messed up, and I’m going to be doing my absolute best to make sure it will never happen again.”

“Ah. I was hoping for as much,” Henry noted Joey’s shoulders eased as he spoke. “That is good.”

Henry gave Johan’s hand a comforting pulse. 

“We’re gonna get through this,” he assured him, flashing a brief smile, lifting the back of Joey’s hand to his lips. However, the smile in his eye faded as he looked at Joey, who seemed troubled. “Is… is something the matter, honeybee?”

“Is absence really something th-that causes… idolism?”

“Yeah, of course it can, sometimes it causes resentment, and rarely idolism,” Henry, somewhat surprised, answered. Johan’s gaze shifted to the table, his brow furrowing. “Is… that something that you’re afraid of doing?”

“I…” Johan coughed slightly, eyes steadily turned to the window. “I fear it is something I had been… subjected to.”

Henry was quiet.

“We never really talked about your past, you know,” he commented. Johan whispered, “I know.”

“Do you… want to talk about it?”

“Um… maybe a little?”

“I’ll listen.” Henry gave him an encouraging smile. “I’ll try not to make too many comments.”

Joey visibly arranged his thoughts in his mind, flickering from one place to another. 

“My father was a doctor,” he started. “My mother a descendant of slaves. She, however, is albino, and was given an ability outside of her family to prosper.”

Henry nodded, listening attentively. 

“I was not… an accident, per say,” Johan awkwardly continued, shifting and blushing slightly. “But they did not have m-me… to have a child? There aren’t the right words. They had me t-to fix their relationship. They held no love for each other. They fought. A lot.”

“Even after they had you?” Henry inquired, though he felt that he already knew the answer. Johan nodded. Henry felt his jaw knot in displeasure. “That’s awful.”

“They tended not to break things when they f-fought,” Joey’s hand squeezed Henry’s just a little, his gaze absentminded. “Though… sometimes my father would hit my mother. Or, sometimes, the other way around.”

“Did they… hit you?” Henry asked, worried, biting his lip. 

“No,” Joey shook his head, mirroring Henry and biting his own lip. “They just a-acted as though I wasn’t there, especially when they were fighting. M-my stepfather, Paul, did though.”

“That’s terrible,” Henry’s brow furrowed, holding both of Joey’s hands now. “I just… I can’t even think of why anyone even thinks they _could_ have a right to hit their child or spouse. And to think that _you_ went through that… well, you’re a true wonder through and through.”

“Mmm,” Johan did not fully reply, looking off to the side once more. It seemed impossible for him to meet Henry’s eyes. “That isn't what this conversation i-is on, though. My father… Atabulus. He… wasn’t around a lot. Not really ever at night. Always with a patient. Never ran out of energy. He was a quiet m-man. He liked discipline and order, much like my mother. That was, at least, one thing they h-had in common.”

“And?” Henry prompted, knowing that look in Joey’s eyes, that look of hesitance. “So you looked up to him, I suppose?”

“I _worshipped_ him… and I think I still do.”

Henry did not say anything. The tormented look in his eye struck deep at Henry’s heart, and he longed to bring him comfort. He wrapped an arm over his shoulders. 

Joey, to Henry’s astonishment, continued after a minute or two of silence.

“There were some r-rare interactions we had,” his voice was low and retrospective. “That he truly seemed engaged during.”

“What were they?” Henry quired. 

“He gave me medicines.”

***

“Hola,” the woman’s voice was unmistakably similar to that of Johan’s, though with even more siren-like qualities than the man. “Habla Alessandra.”

“Hello,” Henry stammered, trying to resist the urge to twirl the cord around his finger. “I’m Dr. Henry Stein, Mrs. um, Ramirez? Or Drew?”

“Oh, please, call me Alessandra,” she laughed, sounding remarkably like round honey dewdrops landing tinkling on bluebells. “You _must_ be Johan’s partner - I will not pry into how many meanings that holds, but a woman can guess - whatever are you calling for, darling?”

“I, er,” Henry, struck by her tact, found words locked away. “I’m calling for Joey. Not that he ask-”

“I very well know that he would not have asked anyone to call,” Alessandra crisply cut off the end of his sentence, his mouth snapping shut. “He _is_ my son, after all. I have hurt him, yes, yet I still know him. So, Dr. Stein, what is it that you need to know about him? You surely know that he and I have hardly exchanged words since his escape nigh seven years prior.”

_Escape?_ The word echoed in Henry’s head. More questions swirled in his mind, and he had no idea where to go from now, too many to ask. 

“I, as his primary physician, need to know exactly what medications his father had put him on,” Henry settled on the most important thing to know first. Secrets could be learned later, preferably from Joey himself. “Nothing like heroin?”

“No, but apomorphine, almost weekly, if not daily,” Henry could hear her moving, and his suspicion was confirmed when he heard something click open. “He had a case file for Johan… here it is. He gave him secobarbital when he was sleepless. The rest of the list is alphabetized.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“No.”

“How many drugs did he put him on?” Henry tugged on his hair, eyes blown wide from sheer shock and distress. “What was he, crazy?”

“Yes, yes he was,” Alessandra replied. She took a moment before answering again. “Not too many drugs on this list. Most, if not all, discontinued. Do you still want them?”

“Absolutely,” Henry vehemently nodded, even though she could not see him. “I need to be able to help him best I can, and that means with all the information available.”

It took quite a bit of time for Alessandra to relay the entire list to Henry. Most were benign, though there were some (such as chloroform) that caused red flags to wave in his mind. 

“Thank you for your time, M- Alessandra,” he said, looking at the list with dismay. “I’ve got a lot to think about now.”

“Oh, do feel free to call anytime, darling,” he could almost see her smile in her tone. “Any news about Johan is always welcome. It’s rather odd to learn more about him through a newspaper than himself, but I suppose that is a natural result of his upbringing. Do call again, Dr. Stein. And, one last thing.”

“Yes ma’am?”

“Do make him happy, if you can. He’s always been a melancholy boy, yet he deserves to smile.”

“I am doing my best.”

***

Joey inhaled the scent of a sprig of lavender that had been left on Shawn’s desk. He smiled as its lilac lull filled the air around him, and he placed the flowers into the loop of Linda’s hair bow. Henry watched him with a careful eye, holding his work in not quite trembling hands. As much as he loved Joey, he also respected him - now even more so in both regards. Joey did not seem to notice Henry as he and Linda catalogued the Heavenly Toys’ stock, Linda with a ready pencil poised over a notepad and eager smiling face.

Joey was a wonderful father. He explained to her supply and demand, the curves they had to follow in order to not fall into a crash. She absorbed every word, nodding now and then in response to a question that Joey may have proposed. 

Henry’s heart fluttered each time he smiled or laughed. His back ached from spending two too many nights on the couch, and his neck itched a bit from an ill fitting collar that he wished Joey would fix with his caring touch. Still, he beamed with pride even from afar, glad to be so close to the man at all. He got a chance others would die for, and he was not one to waste it. 

Once Linda’s lesson was completed, he extended a hand for Joey to take. The man accepted it with a smile that would put the diamonds of all the high women to shame, the stars in the sky unable to rival the glimmering beauty of his visage. 

It made Henry’s heart triple in size once more. 

***

They settled on the couch side by side, one of Joey’s homespun, homemade blankets tucked under their chins as they shared a bowl of black raspberries that stained their fingertips and lips. Conversation was minimal, as neither felt the need to talk, accepting and loving their proximity as all that was required by any man to be happy.

Johan’s head rested on Henry’s shoulder as the stout man read aloud medical journals on differing maladies. Henry wrapped an arm around his side, and Johan found his hand to take into his own. 

Henry knew that Joey would leave to his own bedroom once the bowl was empty and the academic papers were exhausted, but he was content to have him close for then, for those moments of tranquility and bliss. After all, he would earn his time to be with Joey. He knew that he had amends to make with those of the studio, but Joey had given everyone breaks, not only for their collective sanity, but also to allow Henry to readjust. 

Henry was grateful for all of it. For everything that Johan had done for him.

So, he was more than content with their places. He was happy.

* * *

Henry was well aware that he would have repercussions coming to bite his heels now that he was back from the dead. Not that he was exactly looking forward to such an idea. No, he would much rather be comfortably studying, or working in the clinic or at his desk, but he was in the music department waiting for Susie to pull a sweater over his head. It was the most ugly shade of yellow and a fine fit, if not a little loose. The material was not scratchy, for which Henry was grateful for. What he was _not_ grateful for in the slightest were the words spray painted onto it, the first two words in blue, the final in bright red. 

_Welcome Home CHEATER_

While he had to admit it was a fitting punishment, the knowledge made him flush no less. 

He accepted it in stride, and even though his cheeks were burning hot, he walked out of her quarters with his head high. He was getting better, no matter what the snickerers behind his back would say otherwise. Sammy noted the sweater with some marked disapproval, making a comment that Susie should have ceased after her Bindii experiments. Whether or not Henry agreed with his words, he made no indication, merely smiling wryly. 

Sammy tied his hair back into a bow. 

“I take it Joey hasn’t seen you wearing that… interesting thing yet, has he?” Sammy probed correctly. Henry nodded, looking over the sheet music Sammy had prepared. “I don’t think he would be very happy with it, either.”

“Susie told me to wear it, so I’m wearing it,” Henry shrugged. Sammy frowned and rebutted, “You already heard what I have to say on that. She should’ve stopped then. She’s taken her vengeance, so to speak.”

“And you?” Henry asked, looking to the musician with a careful eye. “What is it that you’d want me to do for you, Sammy? I can run errands, clean the instruments - anything.”

“Truth be told, Stein, I’m just…” Sammy gave a weak shrug, smiling at him with somber eyes, “Really, really damn happy you’re back. Just. Stop by the music department more often, okay? We all like you down here, and it would truly mean a lot. To all of us, here.”

“Do you want a hug with that?” Henry asked, half joking, half serious, knowing that the man tended to dislike physical contact unless it was from one of his partners. So it surprised him to see Sammy nod, opening his arms to the doctor. Their hug was awkward from their seated positions beside one another, but it was nonetheless comforting for them both. Henry patted his back as they drew apart, and offered a smile. “I am sorry for leaving you, and everyone, like that. It was really wrong of me, and I’ll make sure it won’t happen again.”

“Take care of yourself, Stein,” the man sighed, putting a hand on Henry’s shoulder. “For all of us. For yourself, too.”

***

“Henry Sumorliði Stein, what the _hell_ do you think you are wearing?”

“Uh,” Henry looked at himself, though he knew as well as anyone that Joey could see the rather offending article of clothing on his frame. “A punishment?”

Johan shook his head vehemently, scowling. Henry thought that he was handsome even when he was upset, though he was definitely much more beautiful if he was happy. 

“What’s wrong?” Henry bit his lip. “Do you not want me to wear it?”

“It is factually incorrect,” Joey replied, and stood Henry up so he could sit on his chair. “Take it off, please. I’ll fix it, and if you’d w-want to wear it after, then you m-may.”

“Ok, honeybee,” Henry shucked the layer, trying and mostly succeeding to ignore the stares of the younger artists at his build. He knew that he was a strong man - knowing that he would not grow to be tall sparked a spirit of compensation in him, and he made himself ‘balance the scales’. Henry watched as Johan shook and uncorked a bottle of ink, slipping a paper into the sweater to separate the inside of the front and back. Joey dipped a paintbrush into the ink, and with careful hands added a word between ‘home’ and ‘cheater’. Then, he made some stylistic changes, to the end that Henry wondered who would _not_ want to wear such a fantastic sweater. “Here you g-go, darlin’. It’s much better now, don’t you think?”

“I love it,” Henry breathed. A smile formed on his face as he took in the detail and flair. He read it aloud, savoring the words. “‘Welcome home death cheater’. That has one hell of a ring to it. I like it a lot. God, Joey, I love you. You just blow me away all the time. I’ll let this dry and then I’ll wear it for a week. It looks so damn good.”

“Just like you, I suppose,” Joey dramatically sighed, batting his eyelashes with a joking grin. “Especially since this way the kids won’t be askin’ what you were cheatin’ on. And, before you say ‘on you’, I’ll have you know that we aren’t looking at that. Not at all, n-never again. It wasn’t your fault, and you have to accept that. We’ll get through this together, and that first step is going t-to accept that you _didn’t cheat_. Seduction is not s-seduction when the target is drunk. That’s not consensual. You know that. I know that. You just gotta accept it.”

“I’m working on that,” Henry grimaced, trying to take in his words without any salt. “Thanks to Bertrum hammering that in, I’m mostly better. But it still resonates, you know, Joey?”

“I know,” Joey’s shoulders fell in a bit. “It can stick forever. But….”

He tapered off, unsure of what to say. Yet Henry was certain for his own words, taking Joey’s hands into his own. 

“We’re going to get through this,” he promised, his smile inching over to Joey. “Together.”

***

It was not uncommon to accidentally walk in on a couple kissing in the studio, but it was uncommon to walk in on Bertrum and Lacie sharing a moment in the man’s office. The older pair tended to keep business manners separate from love life, but there were some rare exceptions on some days when Bertrum found himself needing a bit of soothing touch, or when Lacie wanted a bit of company instead of hir usually preferred solitude. They were naturally a handsome couple, each accent on one promoting that of the other, a powerful duo to be reckoned with. 

However, when one comes in when they are enjoying the simple luxury of one another’s presence and touch, that is where one sees the softness that immense power hides beneath. Though they did not notice Henry opening the door, Henry smiled at the sight of them, each with the lightest of smiles on their lips, foreheads and noses brushing and lips meeting between some words spoken softly between them. Henry wisely decided to wait outside of the office for them instead of continuing to interrupt their moment together, and closed the door without a sound. 

Waiting did not take long. 

Bertrum opened the door to his office to greet him, stepping back to allow him into the park creator’s domain. Bertrum, though he had been kind yet suspicious of Henry, seemed to be surprised and satisfied to see him before his desk, the blond looking every bit a remorseful child. The lights in the room were covered with blue fireproof cloths, giving the architect a sinister look where he sat in the shadows. 

“So,” Bertrum leaned back, Lacie pressing a kiss to his temple before leaving them. “What is the matter, Henry?”

“Nothing, um, nothing excessive?” Henry replied, his smile sheepish. “I just. Feel like I _should_ speak to you, even though I’m utterly terrified to be sitting here, if I’m being honest.”

“You know, I would be very afraid if I were you as well,” Bertrum assured him, though his assurance in and of itself felt like a threat. “That was not a threat nor a duel challenge, my dear. No need to go pistol grabbing or anything of the sort.”

“Sorry,” Henry hastily apologized, letting go of the handle he did not realize he started gripping. “I think I’m a bit… stressed over the situation, is all. The whole of it. I mean, I’m just generally stressed about a lot of things at the moment. And a feeling of being helpless.”

“I am not a therapist, Ray,” Bertrum reminded him. He blushed as he realized that he had been rambling to the gentleman, and opened his mouth to apologize, though Bertrum stopped him by raising a hand and reaching into his desk. “Though, are you seeing one? It might help with the whole ‘back from the dead’ thing you went through.”

“Yeah…” Henry stretched out the ‘a’ sound as he spoke, blushing at the recall of his wonderful trip through hell and back. Or, respectively, down to earth from literal heaven. “That was… interesting. Hey, Bertrum, are you okay? You look kind of pale.”

“Headache, is all,” he replied, gesturing to the dimmed lights. “Who knew being a disembodied head in a simulation would carry over so harshly, and to the past as well.”

“I’ve been feeling… skinless, myself, honestly,” he offered, rubbing his arm. “Similar to those first few skeletal minutes I was back.”

“And Joey? How is he doing physically?” Bertrum inquired, leaning forward and scrutinizing Henry with deep bronze eyes. “I’m assuming you would know better than I, seeing as you’re probably _with_ him at night and more attune to his body-”

“Joey and I have not been sleeping together,” Henry quickly confessed. Bertrum’s mouth closed. Henry felt his cheeks heat up significantly, and he hastily backtracked. “I don’t mean like, um, _that_ , I meant like I’m staying on the couch and Johan sleeps in his room.”

“I see,” Bertrum sounded surprised, eyebrows raised the slightest fraction of an inch. “But you still should know his physical state of wellbeing, at least as his physician.”

“He’s complained about his vision a bit, but nothing major,” he replied after pondering. “Otherwise he’s just being quiet again. I can get him to talk about it if you’d like.”

“Try to,” Bertrum nodded. “I worry that he is hiding something from us. While you and he did reset to…” Bertrum looked at the calendar, double checking the date, “A bit before Joey’s shift, there is still the significant possibility that he is also experiencing these ‘echoes’, and if that’s true, then it must be awful for him. He went through a great deal of effort and self mutilation to bring you back, Henry.”

“I know,” Henry softly said, looking at his hands as his eyes itched with tears. He put his husband in a terrible situation; to lose his whole world for the third time, or bring back a dead man who had turned his back on him. Wait, not husband. And that was because of his choice. “I will do my utmost to relieve him of any pain or stress he could be feeling. I… I’m sorry.”

“Fear is a powerful motivator,” Bertrum responded, cocking a brow and leaning back. “What you did is understandable. Inexcusable, but understandable. I do forgive you, though, because I know that had you known what you would cause with that copy, I know that you would have never created it to begin with.”

“Absolutely,” Henry exhaled. “I wish that my head beat my heart, that time. I wanted Joey, and I gave him to myself, and now I’m paying the price. God, what an idiot I’ve been. An absolutely moronic buffoon.”

“Of the highest caliber, at least,” Bertrum wryly finished for him. Henry laughed at the remark, brightening the room with a soft rumble. “Is there anything else that you need from me?”

“No, not really,” Henry answered the man. “Is there anything you want me to do as a retribution of sorts?”

“It looks like you’re already going through ‘retribution’ with that hideously colored sweater,” Bertrum wrinkled his nose as he spoke. “Who gave it to you, Susie? Ah, as expected. The only saving grace of it is the words, specifically Johan’s addition.”

“I know, right?” Henry beamed, glad to have the stylish Piedmont on his side about the sweater. “But, uh, is there anything you want from me?”

“ No, I do not need anything from you,” Bertrum sighed, and shook his head, preparing to return to his work. “Just do as you are - try your best for your family, and be there for Johan.”

Henry saluted, standing.

“Yes, sir.”

***

Joey smiled at the sight of the doctor, holding his medical bag and a cup of coffee. Henry kissed his hand before slipping off to the music department to give Jack said cup. Jack had requested that the animator bring him one cup daily, an expense he was quite happy to make if only to see the man more often. Henry swiftly returned to Joey’s office, and was greeted by a sight he would not soon forget. 

He had seen Joey before, hundreds of times, but now? There was something all the more ethereal about him. He seemed to glow from the inside as he worked, his hair light and fluffy. There was a slight smile on his lips, his pen balanced in his grip as he expertly drew smooth lines and curves. He was sculpturesque, as though he were carved from marble or jade, poised and breathtaking. His soft and quiet beauty seemed to emanate outward. Something about the way he was sparked love in Henry’s chest, the feeling at first dull and quiet, then bubbling up into an operatic inferno of blissful adoration. 

In a few easy steps, Henry made his way to the front of the man’s desk, and leaned to lift his face, watching red eyes light up happily. He pressed a kiss to his nose, making him laugh that beautiful chiming laugh, as soft as it was reverberating. 

“I love you, Johan” Henry told him, still cupping his cheeks, and Joey replied in turn, “And I love you. I love you with all m-my heart.”

“Have I ever told you that you’re the most princely person I’ve ever met in my whole life?” Henry’s eyes were soft and wide as he murmured his inquiry, thumbs tracing the line of Johan’s smooth cheekbones. “Like a… like something right out of a fairytale. You’re so, so stunning.”

“Henry,” Johan crooned, chuckling a tad, “You don’t need to f-flatter me, ya know.”

“It’s not flattery,” Henry’s brows arched in his offence. “It’s gospel. Even if you had… six arms, two tails, and were see-through to look at your organs, you’d still be beautiful.”

“As if that would ever happen,” Joey snorted, but perked up from the doctor’s compliments. Quick to kiss the man’s forehead, he smiled at Henry’s stunned expression. “And you’d be beautiful even if you were covered in ink an’ sweat and looked like you just killed a puppy.”

“Don’t remind me,” Henry groaned, tilting his head back. Unfortunately for him, Joey took the opportunity to kiss his neck, too, eliciting a gasp from his throat. Joey was looking at him innocuously as he snapped to meet his eyes, but in the other’s ruby spheres, he could see the man knew fully well what he had done. It brought a smile to Henry’s lips. “God, Joey, you cheeky not so little devil. I love you so much. Every small thing you do just… blows my mind.”

“Is that all?” Johan giggled, immensely enjoying the blush that spread over Henry’s cheeks. “Shame.”

“Is that any way to behave at a doctor’s visit?” Henry admonished with mock affront. “I’m doing a wellness check for you, and then you just bring that up like that?”

Joey looked as though he would explode from laughter, his lips pursed, breath held, eyes sparkling with manic energy.

“What is it, Joey?” Henry sighed, smiling. “Spit it out.”

“Up,” he wheezed, and burst into peals of guffaws that shook deep into the world around him. Henry took a moment to process, then groaned and laughed as well. 

“Sometimes I forget you’re essentially a teenager,” he shook his head. Joey took offence to that, stopping mid laugh to glare at him. “What? You might be ‘out of your teens’, but you’re still really young.”

“Hmph,” Johan turned away, clearly not truly offended, but keeping up the act. “Get on with your ‘wellness check’, oh so ancient doctor of mine.”

“I’m not that old!” Henry rebutted, but picked up his bag and set to work.

***

The results were normal. Everything was normal. And that made it abnormal. Joey’s temperature should have been higher than it was. His pulse should have been higher, too. Breathing should have been deeper. Everything was off in the sense that it was ‘correct’, but this was Joey, so none of it was right.

“You’re sick with something,” Henry remarked matter of factly. Joey tried to deny it for a moment, but faltered under Henry’s stern look of reproach, and nodded slightly. “Any symptoms to report?”

“Just general aches, tiredness, usual fever stuff,” Joey admitted, shivering a little and tightening his jacket a bit over his shoulders. “Head hurts. Hard to concentrate.”

“Hypothermia,” Henry diagnosed, frowning. “I’d say it came from overwork.”

“Nope,” Joey said, getting up clumsily to avoid the doctor, but he caught him before he could disappear into the studio. “I’m perfectly fine! Was jokin’ about havin’ symptoms, I’m all good! Just gotta do some work and I’ll be all better-”

“You’re not weaseling your way out of this one,” Henry laughed, hefting him over his shoulder. “Doctor’s orders are bedrest and _no work._ Understand?”

“No,” Johan pouted. Henry pinched the back of his knee, making him yelp. “Okay, okay, I’ll stay in bed!”

“Good,” Henry smiled, smug.

* * *

The music department was never one to be taken off guard. They were prepared for everything. 

Almost everything.

They were _not_ prepared for Johan to crash in being chased by a shouting Henry, Johan holding a shovel and Henry a blanket. 

The two yelled unintelligibly, saying ‘something something hypothermia’, according to Sammy, who slinked into the auditorium when he heard the ruckus. Eventually Joey was caught as he tried to climb from the piano to the projector booth, ending up in Norman’s firm arms and carried down to Henry, who thanked the projectionist for returning the runaway. 

Joey was bundled into the blanket about as tight as a burrito, Henry’s arms holding him gently while he brought him up to his apartment to return him to bed. 

Much to Joey’s chagrin. He wriggled and squirmed and tried to leap from the hold, but Henry held fast. 

Johan groaned. 

“Lemme work.”

“You went from being an addict to a workaholic,” Henry rumbled, “and frankly I don’t see much of an upgrade from one to the other.”

“I’m not a workaholic!” Joey protested, kicking his legs as they neared his door, but the blanket that was wrapped around them made the motion to be rather like a fish in the desert. Existent, but futile. “I merely… enjoy working!”

“Yes, but you _never_ take any breaks,” Henry rebuffed, closing the door behind them with a backwards kick with his ankle. “You work on weekends and holidays, whenever you can. It’s not healthy, and now you’re even sick from it.”

“I’ll be right as rain in no t-time,” Joey assured, and Henry was comforted by the fact that he was at least admitting that he was ill. That alone was a few steps forward. “And I can work in bed. Was headin’ down to my office when ya spotted me. Just wanted to grab some paperwork. Honest.”

“Joey, that’s exactly my point,” Henry groaned, leaning his head back even as he put Johan onto his bed. “You are addicted to working. You can’t stop.”

“Ugh,” Johan turned away best he could wrapped in a thick blanket, Henry tucking another over him and slipping its edges under the mattress to keep him within the warmth. “I don’t work when I’m sleeping, you know.”

“And that’s the only time ever,” Henry pointed out. Joey bit his tongue to prevent himself from digging his hole even deeper. “But that’s okay for now. You need to sleep anyway to get better from hypothermia. So, I’ll bring you some chamomile and hibiscus tea, and you’ll get some shuteye, okay?”

“Okay,” Joey sighed, sinking into the bed like a ship that gave in to the oceanic current. “Don’t take too long g-getting it, please.”

“I won’t,” Henry plighted, and alighted for the door. He returned in a few minutes with the steaming cup, helping the bed trapped man to drink. “I’ll see you after work. Please, for me, stay in bed.”

“Fine.” Johan tugged the blanket tighter. Henry got up to leave, satisfied with his word. Joey softly called before the door closed, “I love you.”

Henry glanced back with a smile.

“Love you, too.”

***

Henry was glad to see Johan sleeping soundly when he checked on him an hour later. The kids were still at school, but Henry decided to get ready for dinner so that no one would be hungry for too long after the long day. He put on spaghetti and tomato sauce, whisking together a cheese sauce as well.

When everything was set up, he put it all aside, and slipped back downstairs to work, checking in on all the departments to make sure they were all running smoothly. It was a rather easy job in some respects, and monumentally hard in others. 

It was easy to get up and go through the motions, check in, look around and note what was done, what was being done, and what needed to be done, and check out. What was hard was looking at each of the workers and feeling guilt sticking to his stomach like a disease, chilling, oozing, and tumultuous, bringing a sense of wanting to retch. 

Still, he smiled, and touched arms inconspicuously, satisfied by the solidity of those around him. It brought a sense of comfort. Of closure, so to speak - an end to the pain he caused. A fixing, righting the wrong he wrought, etcetera, all sorts of maladies and madness that could be cured with homely chatter and good warm apple pie. 

The day closed easily, and Henry, exhausted, made his way back up the stairs home. 

He could not exactly tell if he was delighted or enraged by the pie of his thoughts that was on the fully set table along with his pre-prepared meal, and he tilted his head back and slapped his forehead with a longsuffering groan of “Joeyyyyyyy….”

“You said you would slee-” Henry grumbled aloud, coming into the man’s room. Despite the work done on the table, Johan was fast asleep, shivering slightly even under two blankets. “Huh. Linda? Are you home?”

“Hi, Daddy,” she said, coming out of her room, chewing a piece of gum. “Is Papi sick? He was out cold-”

“Ayy.”

“Ayy.” Linda smiled at her own pun with her father’s grin. “But yeah. He was out like a sack of bricks when I came home. Willy sent the pie, so I set the table.”

“Good girl,” Henry praised, ruffling her hair just a bit. The twelve year old beamed. “The kids’ll be at the bus stop soon, want to go pick them up?”

“Sure!” Linda grinned, proud to be given the responsibility. Henry was glad his daughter did not have his own fear. “And then can you wake Papi? So we can have dinner all together?”

“Of course,” Henry assured her, and tilted his head toward the slumbering form on the bed. “Though I’ll try to keep him in all those blankets. He might look like a pompous old woman gracing us with her honorable presence.”

“Well, if he needs the blankets, he needs the blankets,” Linda giggled, and slipped out of the door. Henry made his way to Johan’s side. 

His heart sank as he realized the man was going through a nocturnal seizure, every limb stiff and his expression of pain. Before a minute passed, so too did the clenched muscles of his form, Henry exhaling in relief. He placed a broad palm on the side of Joey’s face, glad that his temperature seemed to have risen. 

“Wake up, sweetheart,” Henry whispered, kissing his brow. Johan’s eyelids fluttered, and he appeared surprised to have slept at all. Henry grinned lasciviously at his wonderfully startled expression, making the red of his eyes paint the curve of his cheekbones, blush spreading to the pointed tips of his ears. “Hello gorgeous.”

“You’re a perv,” Joey grumbled, choking on a gasp as Henry’s pleasantly warm hand snuck under his shirt. Words failed him while Henry’s hand soothed the pain in his stomach, making him melt into the bed with a soft moan.

“Just kinky,” Henry muttered into his ear, still grinning broadly. Still, it softened as he rubbed circles on the other’s stomach, feeling tension ease from the skin. “Do you feel like eating?”

“Maybe,” Joey admitted, his own hand resting atop Henry’s, being pulled along with the motion. He sniffed the air. “You made spaghetti? And is that apple pie?”

“Apple pie is from Willy,” Henry remarked. Johan nodded in understanding. “But I made pasta and sauces for it. It’s got a good amount of carbohydrates to get you energized. Are you feeling any better than before?”

“Just a tad,” Joey yawned, eyes fluttering shut as his body’s focus drew solely on the hand running circular tracks over his abdomen. “Are the kids home yet?”

“Linda’s getting them from the stop,” Henry replied. “They’ll be home soon.”

Johan was quiet, but nodded to show his understanding.

Red eyes met teal ones.

“Stay with me for a bit.”

“I’d want to do that forever, Joey.”

“Oh, I love you, Henry.”

“I love you, too, Johan.”

***

Dinner went as described - Johan was bundled up in his two blankets, seated at a wider end of the table to allow him to retain all material. He was tired, clearly, but was glad to see his children at the end of the day. When he retired to bed, Alice tromped after him, lugging a book the same size as herself with her into his room, and proudly announced that _she_ would read to _him_ a bedtime story that night. Johan tried to dissuade her, though he gave in to her innocuous persuasion and charming determination to do this task. The other children, assured by Henry that Joey was not contagious, crowded around him to listen to the angel read aloud. She was a good reader, even for one so young, although she did make a few mistakes, she was corrected gently and kindly. Before long, Joey nodded off - though the kids stuck around and fell asleep surrounding him. 

Henry took a photograph of the sight.

He would paint the color in later, and took a moment to memorize the hues of the room, the blues of refracted sky, the greys of growing shadows, and the pinks of dying sunlight. 

Every minute he spent with his family he found himself growing more and more attached to them all. They were his children and his spouse, in binding of marriage or magic or body or not. The backdrop of reality shifted from ‘me’ to ‘we’, and the fear that came with that loss of self drowned in ink not too long ago. He learned, little by little, that it was not ‘me’ that was lost, but a larger form was gained. The ‘me’ remained, though altered.

From his father, he was often warned that marriage was the end of romance, but in his experience, it was only the start. And, in calls and visits, his father did admit that he was right, and that love only seemed to grow after rocky periods of time, despite fights and arguements. However, Henry and Joey seemed to have worked out all their differences in their long shared history, only ebbing closer together, further apart to remain as identities, but an immense force to be reckoned with together or apart. 

Henry knew that Joey’s health was fragile and he got overexcited, but he himself was possessive and overprotective, and if he gripped too hard, he would shatter the trust they fostered, as he already had once before. He learned from his mistakes, he decided, as he pulled a croqueted blanket over himself and set into the couch to rest, lulled to sleep by the chorus of soft sounding snores in the room down the hall. 

***

Joey healed in a normal amount of time, at first, then remained stuck so close to his regular temperature, but always shivering incessantly. Henry was worried, and brought it up to some of his medical colleagues during a laboratory experiment, who suggested aggressive warming techniques, and Henry placed them into his mind to try out with Joey’s permission. One fellow doctor in training nudged him with a smirk and commented under his breath a ‘cure’ that made the tips of Henry’s ears go dark, making the other inquire if he already attempted it, to which Henry denied vehemently, bright red. 

There was one idea that appealed to Henry that he hoped Joey would not mind, and while it was not nearly along the scale of depravity as the previous suggestion, it still budded a curiosity in his chest that trickled to his fingers and knees. Work was easy to finish with a goal at the end, and he even completed some animation frames at the studio before the day was up. Joey had reluctantly stayed in bed under the careful watch of Bertrum, who moved some blueprint work up to Joey’s room to work while keeping his eye on him.

Henry whispered in his ear, and the park maker nodded and left after putting a kiss onto Joey’s cool forehead.

“How are you feeling?” Henry asked Joey. Joey shrugged. “So so?”

“Pretty much,” Johan replied. Their hands entwined soft and easy. “How was your day at the clinic and studio?”  
  
“It was good,” Henry was reminded of his reasoning to come home earlier, and poked Joey’s nose, much to his surprise. “Want a hot bath?”

“What’s this about?” Joey inquired, raising a brow. “I thought you as a m-medical man would say to take a steaming shower.”

“A colleague of mine mentioned that mild hypothermia, such as you have now, can be greatly reduced by a bath,” Henry informed him, smiling at the ponderous look that crossed Johan’s face. “I can go set it up for you, if you’d like me to.”

“It… It sounds nice,” Joey murmured. “Yes. Please.”

***

Henry should have known what he did the moment he saw Joey sink further into the bath. Bubbles rested on the surface of the water in a massive mound, distinguishing Joey’s hair only by the blue tips. His red eyes peered at him, his dark face hidden in the mass. 

“Hey there,” Henry smiled. Johan smiled in return. “Do you need anything?”

“Nope,” Joey replied, but it was a little too quick. Henry squinted, looking over him. “Somethin’ the matter?”

“You’re not wearing clothes in there, are you?”

“Um.”

“Joey.”

“ _Uh._ ”

“Johan Icarus, are you fully dressed in a bathtub?!”

  
“I plead the fifth amendment.”

“JOHAN.”

***

Linda was peacefully resting on the couch with Boris coloring on the floor beside her. The other children were playing a board game, when suddenly there was a very wet blur passing beside her peripheral vision. She shot up to watch Henry chase Johan around the apartment, amused, Joey trailing water and Henry covered in bubbles, clearly having tried to wrest the man out of the tub only to fall in himself. 

They both were yelling incoherently, something about clothes, chills, and baths, when Henry slid under the table that was between he and the tall man, Joey reacting two seconds too late, Henry catching him by his ankles and tossing him into his arms. 

“Bathtime. _Normal_ bathtime.” Henry insisted, and gripped him tightly as he pulled him into the room despite his wriggles and protests, and locked the door behind himself, kicking the key under the door to prevent the man from pickpocketing him and escaping. Joey groaned. “Come now, a bath with your boyfriend shouldn’t be something of a bother, now, is it?”

Joey flushed, and clung to Henry, mouth opening like a fish out of water. Henry smirked and undid his bowtie slowly, adoring the way that Joey blushed all the more. He let him out of his arms, letting him watch his clothing slip off his muscled build. 

“W-wait,” Joey swallowed sharply, and Henry paused in his motions, raising his brow. Licking his lips, Joey tried to arrange his thoughts. “I keep my tank top on. We keep our shorts on. Okay?”

“Understandable,” Henry agreed softly. The entire atmosphere seemed to change. It did not get darker in the room, but it felt like it did. Not in a cruel way, but in a somber way. Joey let Henry’s hands come to his chest, to undo his wet dress shirt. Joey did the same for him, and Henry slipped Johan’s bright green belt off his hips, those beautiful hips that swayed without trying. He wanted to see them then, but knew he would have to wait. “You’re so damn pretty.”

Joey was breathless, and breathtaking. Henry took off his light grey green pants, loving the juxtaposition they had with his dark skin, and he put his palm on the back of Joey’s knee to feel the moon. Johan gasped once more, Henry’s hands trailing up those gorgeous kobicha legs, lifting him off the ground with a foot on his pants to pick him out of them, and then set him into the still hot bath, Joey arching in his arms with the sensation. Henry noticed his own pants were still on, and he quickly shucked them, abiding by Joey’s request he keep his shorts on. He joined him in the bath, coming into his welcoming arms. They looked at one another, Joey flushed from his illness, the warmth of the bath, and the intimacy; Henry’s expression fervent and… to admit it would be blasphemy, but Joey could not deny it was one of worship. It stole away the air from his lungs once more, and again as Henry’s hands roamed his body. It was the closest they had been for so long, and Joey missed and yearned for his touch. His head leaned back as he basked in the touch of his angel. Henry switched their places in the water, Joey finding the back of his head resting on Henry’s shoulder. Henry washed each of his limbs with meticulous care, washing through Joey’s hair, marveling at the length and color as the water soaked through it. It was homespun silk in his hands, each strand thin yet supple, the whole thick and the finest quality. 

“You’re all good to go,” Henry murmured into Joey’s ear, and Johan turned his head to look at him with sharp eyes. He snuggled down onto the doctor’s chest, settling in his arms, and he whispered to him, “Let’s stay like this a bit longer.”

***

Henry tucked Joey into bed, the dozing chicano smiling at the kiss he received on his hand. Henry’s heart felt so much lighter than it had in a while, and he felt like he could sing strong with the heavenly chorus. He thoroughly enjoyed his time with Joey, and found himself eagerly looking forward to the next time they could be so close. Joey’s temperature seemed to have returned to his regular base one, and for that, Henry was grateful. He settled onto the couch, stretched, yawned, and slept easily.

* * *

Joey healed quickly.

So he claimed. No one dwelled on the comment, being that he seemed rosy and warm to the touch as usual, and Henry proclaimed him healthy.

.

..

…

But Joey was cold where no hand could reach, not even Henry’s. 

It was a coldness his coding could not get to, where numerica had no vice, where nothing and no one dared traverse. 

Was it his mind or his soul? His head or his heart? He could not tell, and so his body ached all the more for it. He felt as though he were psudoliving, a puppet being dragged around on a string to fix what fell when atlas dropped the world. Nothing sat right and everything was fine. 

Was he okay?

Joey looked at his hands as he sat in his office, alone. 

They were whole, intact, uncut and not bleeding. 

He assessed himself for other injuries, and found none. He checked his temperature. It was normal for him. He glanced over his arms and legs, and found nothing aside from the remnants atrophy of days past. 

Discordant. 

He closed his eyes tightly to drown out the voice of a man who never existed, to block out the whispers of a machine long shut down, to blockade the madness of ink that had once gripped his body but no longer. 

PTSD. Post traumatic stress disorder. 

That was all this was. It would go away in time. 

It certainly would. 

It had to. 

Otherwise he would go mad. 

A grin cracked over his face.

As if he was not already.

He giggled, and it turned into a laugh, and that turned into muffled guffaws he desperately tried to hide in cushions of a couch, biting the dry fabric hard enough to tear the threads woven into the loom. 

Tears joined spittle.

What the hell was wrong with him?!

Everything was great! 

There was no need to feel so miserable!

There was no impending trauma, no pain, no loss, nothing! If he wanted Henry to stay in bed with him, he should simply request him to! 

Yet, there he was, crying on a couch like a-

Like a-

A what?

What was he? A miserable wretch? A depressed sorcerer? A broken toy? 

Joey found he did not know the answer, and his well of tears soon stoppered, and he fell asleep planted to the couch in his own sadness. 

***

Henry was in a meeting with a few other workers of the studio, an impromptu discussion of the state of Johan’s health.

Lacie stood for hirself and Bertrum, the creator busy overseeing the construction of BendyLand on the grounds that they had purchased. Shawn was there to represent for the Flynns and the collection of those that resided in the Franks home. Grant came for finance, of course. 

“He’s miserable,” Grant deduced quicker than the rest of them. “He’s so used to having to carry the weight of the world that now that it’s gone, he’s lost. He’s become directionless.”

“I think that it’s been goin’ on fer a lot longer than yer given’ Jo credit for,” Shawn shook his head and pursed his lips. “He’s a fighter. He’s not just _miserable_ , he’s depressed. And he has been fer years and years. He’s tryin’ his best, and I think that the fact that everythin’ seems fine’s got him goin’ down a rabbit hole of anxiety.”

“I agree with Flynn,” Lacie remarked, nodding hir head towards the irishman. “Johan’s always been a very spirited man, but prone to burnout which only makes him work harder. You said that he got hypothermia from overworking? I’m certain that’s exactly what happened.”

“I don’t know what to do to get him to stop,” Henry found the words tumbling out before he could retain them. “I don’t know how to get him to get better about it. He’s always going off about one thing or another and it’s almost like he’s uncontainable at those times.”

“I know how you feel,” Shawn nodded. “Joey’s, as I said before, a fighter. Even for the good things. Makes me think he’s so used to bad that good is frightenin’. He’s twitchy, lately. Jumpy. Says ‘it’ll be better soon’, an’ I don’t think he’s talking about his shakes. He sounds like he’s trying to convince himself about life, and ain’t doing too good of a job, really.”

Henry felt his heart take a nosedive at Shawn’s words, feeling them resonate. 

“You’re probably right,” he admitted, though the words hurt to state, like a leaden pipe tearing into each soft nerve of his teeth. “I don’t-” He laughed tightly, noticing he was about to sound like a broken record. “Do any of you have any ideas of how we can help him?”

“Mandatory relaxation time,” Grant commented. The other two nodded in agreement, and Henry nodded once in affirmation. “More physical touch, too. That man is a cuddler, and I know you two aren’t in the same bed anymore, but try to spend more time in physical proximity to him.”

“And it could lead to ya gettin’ back into that sweet embrace and bed,” Lacie pointed out with a bright teasing grin. Henry swallowed at the thought, mouth going dry and heart aflutter with the idea of falling asleep in Johan’s arms. “Maybe some movies, some smoochies, and then some-”

“Lacie, c’mon, they _are_ our bosses,” Shawn complained. Lacie snorted, asking, “Since when do _you_ of all people care about that?”

“Not always, but our dear Henry looks like he’d turn into a black hole of embarrassment if you go on like that,” Shawn warned, and he was completely correct. “Besides, one thing is teasin’ Henry about being a shameless prick, the other is pokin’ at his and Mr. Drew’s personal lives.”

“That wasn’t what you were saying when you told me to talk to Joey to get a good lay,” Henry rose an eyebrow at the recall, still pinkening from the memory. Shawn smiled. “Let me guess, there’s a difference there, too?”

“Yep,” Shawn proudly replied. “That wasn’t just interfering with your performance but also with how ya were acting around us. That _had_ to be taken care of. Speaking of which, you seem awfully wound up lately, is yer string too tight?”

Henry darkened. Shawn beamed. 

Grant groaned. 

***

Henry found Joey on the roof. 

He was crying. 

His legs were on the wrong side of the banister.

Henry saw red flags all over his vision, and he rushed over to him, and helped him back onto the safety of the flat. Joey sobbed, curling up onto Henry’s chest, and Henry held him as tight as gravity keeps its hold on humanity. 

“It’s okay,” Henry assured him, kissing his brow, his hairline, the top of his head. “It’s okay. It’s okay to be hurting, Joey. I’m here for you. The family is here for you. The studio is here for you. We’re all here for you. It’s okay. It’s… It’s okay to not be okay, Joey.”

“B-but I gotta be st-strong,” he wept, eyes big and wet. “I gotta b-be strong f-for all of you.”

“Let _us_ be strong for you, this time,” Henry murmured, rocking the distraught artist. “We all love you, and we want you to be happy. And it might take time, but we’re here for you every step of the way, no matter how hard it gets.”

“I think I’m corrupted.”

“You’re not.”

“Something feels wrong. Deep down, something’s wrong.”

Henry rocked him in silence.

***

Joey forced a smile in the mirror. He immediately dropped it, and his head into his hands. 

Nothing seemed to be working for him. Nothing was clicking. His hands shook from the need to work and work and do and be, but he was _trying_ to relax. Really. Really trying.

It was almost funny. It was almost hilarious to see a grown man shaking from the need to work. 

He wanted a drink. He wanted numerica. He wanted morphine. So badly. That would shut up his mind enough to _relax._

With trembling hands, he left the bathroom to the empty apartment, the children at school and Henry downstairs at work.

If he took a ‘little something’ now, no one would notice….

No. No no no. 

None of those vices. What he _needed_ right now was to talk to someone, to touch someone, to be there with someone physically and mentally. 

With a lurching gait and vision that pulsed and spun, he made his way down the stairs into the regular mass of the studio, into the hubbub and commotion, the life and creation of it. The chatter was a noiseless backdrop in Joey’s mind, everything merging into one solid thing.

Rising ink, flowing ink, crashing ink, storming ink, alone in a roaring sea with naught a piece of driftwood to grasp, his head spun rapidly.

He had not eaten breakfast, had he? Or dinner the day before, for that matter. When was the last time he ate? What time was it now, and why are there stars in his vision and sparks in his muscles and is he going numb in his hands and feet what is happening to-

Thud.

The art department’s collective heads turned to see Joey on the floor. Henry leapt up from his chair into action. He gathered Joey into his arms, and gave Ms. Lampbert explicit directions for the rest of the day, as he had to deal with Joey.

Joey’s faint morphed into a seizure. Henry recognized the stiffening, the expression, and his heart ached for the man he loved with his whole heart.

The seizure passed after a few minutes. Henry kissed Joey’s brow as he stirred to consciousness, shivering slightly, but that too vanished in some moments after realizing where he was.

“Are you alright?” Henry asked, looking at him with concern, and Johan kissed his brow. It made Henry smile, but he still showed his worry in his eyes. “Joey?”

“I’m fine, b-but a little shaken up,” Johan told him, his hands slipping off of Henry’s shoulders and coming to rest on his chest. He blushed like a schoolboy, but made no move to remove his hands, and Henry in fact smirked and put his own hands over Joey’s. It was comforting, and comfortable, and made Joey smile, slowly relaxing him.

“Today’s tuesday, doll,” Henry remarked with a slight rumble in his voice, that low vibration that made Johan tremble with anticipation. “Want to go out to eat with me? Date?”

“Oh, yes,” Joey whispered, melting. He desperately wanted to kiss Henry, but resisted the pull to his lips, and instead slid his hands back over his shoulders, wrapping him into his arm, Henry obliging him and joining him on the couch. He straddled the thinner, Johan’s lips brushing his neck in the most pleasant manner. He rubbed circles on his back, loving every sigh of happiness that escaped Joey’s mouth, thanked with lips kissing the line of muscle on his neck, legs twisting together to assert closeness. He could feel Joey smile against his skin as he murmured a question. “What muscle am I kissing?”

“Sternocleidomastoid,” he muttered in reply, and Joey rewarded him with a soft bite to said muscle, sending a shiver of wonderment through Henry. He loved this man so much. Joey moved along his neck, and Henry breathed out the next name. “Omohyoid. Sternothyroid. Sternohyoid.”

“Good,” Joey whispered, Henry grinning softly with semi closed eyes. “Very good.”

“I’d like to be hearing that in bed, if you catch my meaning,” Henry laughed, shifting over Joey, leaning back to enjoy the blush that certainly spread over his cheeks, and was delighted to be correct in his assumption, Joey’s lips open so slightly in bewilderment. “My fancy pretty boy. Innocent and royal, hm? Kept in the palace away from all the naughty common folk?”

“You very well know that’s not true,” Johan rebuked, but it held no bite. “You very well know what m-my step father had done.”

“Sure I do,” Henry nodded, smiling softly. “But that doesn’t change your personality. Or the fact that you had no idea what was happening. You’re still my delightful betrothed. All mine.”

Joey bit back a groan of happiness, and it whined in his throat, lips twitching.

Henry wanted to kiss him, so badly. 

“You’re so damn gorgeous,” Henry whispered into his ears instead, Joey’s exhale reward enough. “I’m gonna be thinking of you every minute you’re gone when your shift comes. I’d say I’d think about you every night, but I already do. Every single night, I can hear you down the hall, and I just get hot and cold all over. I sleep on this couch and to see you here under me just makes me go so damn wild in my heart, you have no idea. The things I want to do to you, all chaste but all willing to go on if you are. Your lips are the prettiest plush things I’ve ever seen and felt, and god, I want to kiss you, over and over and over, until you can’t say anything but my name, and just hearing you say my name makes me go so crazy.”

“Like this?” Joey asked quietly, fingers brushing through golden and sunset locks, lips against a seashell ear, and Henry’s heart felt as though it may tear from his chest with each pounding beat against his ribs. “Henry Stein.”

“I’ve lost it,” Henry remarked, melting in Johan’s hold. “I’ve died and gone to heaven. Can you feel my heart beat for me and make sure I’m still in the land of the living?”

Johan, grin coy, slipped a hand into Henry’s shirt, untucking it from his belt in the process. Henry’s mind exploded with fireworks at the hot touch on his chest, on his serratus anterior and coming to rest on his pectoralis major, those fingertips trailing burning fire. If by some miracle of nature Joey did not feel the slamming beat of his heart, Henry certainly did, in his ears, throat, wrists, legs, every capillary and nerve in his system alight with the sensation of Johan’s touch. 

“I love you,” he blurted, unable to hold the words in his mouth any longer. Once they were out, they kept going, on and on. “I love you, Joey, Johan Icarus, and how sweet you are but also how teasing you can be and how smart you are, you’re a miracle and it doesn’t matter what anyone else says, you’re the most gorgeous person I’ve ever laid eyes on. I’m so glad to be a father alongside you and be able to sleep in the same house as you. I love you so much, everything about you, and I’ll work with you to help you get happy, for good. I love you, Joey, I love you, Johan, I love you, my darling devil.”

“I love you too, Henry,” Joey, surprised by the influx of words, managed to reply, before they all reached his brain, causing him to wrap his arms around Henry, the one still on his skin bunching his shirt up, exposing skin to the air, but Henry found that the chill was combated with the sheer force of the love that pulsed through his body. Johan hid his face on the center of Henry’s chest before he could see his eyes swell with tears, but Henry felt them anyways, sensed them before they fell, and he rose Joey’s face to kiss them away as they streaked down his face. “Oh, f-fu-”

Henry did not kiss him on his lips, but closed his mouth gently with a touch to his chin.

“I love you, Joey.”

“H-Henry, I, you, love,” Joey fumbled, making Henry’s heart melt and a smile grow on his face. “Te amo. Te amo. You. Te amo, te amo, Henry, I love you, te amo, I love you, Henry, Henry….”

Joey kissed Henry’s cheek at the same time Henry kissed his, the corners of their lips brushing.

They held each other close, wrapped in each other’s arms and touch, hands running over shoulders and sides, legs tangled and chests pressed together, breathing as one. 

“I love you,” they said together.

***

They went to a restaurant hand in hand, no one paying them any mind. Or maybe they did. Neither Henry nor Joey cared to notice, being in a world with only one other person, and that was the other holding their hand. They ordered their food and a bottle of soda, neither wanting a drop of alcohol. That night was a night for each other. Sure, they had spent every tuesday together, but they rare went anywhere aside from home to cuddle. To go out to a restaurant was a delight and fun excursion out to the great city they resided within. The smells and sights were nearly overwhelming to Johan in his weakened state, but the taste of the food revitalized him, as did the touch of Henry. 

After their meal, Henry footed the bill, and they left, still hand in hand, making their way to the park where they spent every tuesday. 

Joey’s head rested atop Henry’s, and he pointed out constellations in the sky, whispering their stories to the animator, who loved Johan’s voice just a bit more than the tales he wove, which were made all the better by their narrator. 

Their hands remained together all through the day, and only separated when Joey slipped into his room to retire for the night, bidding Henry a good night. Henry replied he already had an amazing one, making Johan smile.

He settled into bed on the couch, a smile on his lips.

Joey looked at himself in the mirror of his closet. He looked a little better than he had, a little happier than earlier. 

He slipped under his blankets, curling up within them, and the void soon swept over him. Unlike his usually tumultuous dreams, the ones of that night were calm and warming. Relaxed.

* * *

What is color but refracted light?

What is light but the electromagnetic radiation that can be detected by the human eye?

What is radiation aside from the molecules bouncing around our world?

What are molecules but the quarks beneath sight?

What are quarks but nothingness?

Ergo, Color, and hence the World, is nothing.

Yet at the same time, if nothing is everything and vice versa, that makes nothing something.

These were the thoughts that flowed through Johan’s mind as he stared at his computer, at the bright green numbers that emblazoned onto his retinas. The vacuum of space is something, despite being nothing. Hence, nothing does not exist. 

So, how can _he_ be nothing?  
  


The words may be emblazoned on his back, there is nothing on his back, and the thought is soothing now. He is everything in the fact that he is nothing. 

While this can make little to no sense, it does to some, and this is how some live their lives day by day, with the hope that even nothing is something. 

***

Joey rocked on the chair, the curve of the wood allowing for the soothing pattern of motion, exhaustion holding his eyes shut. Tired from nothing.

He had not worked today, today was a mandatory break, instituted by Henry and nearly the whole rest of the studio. Tiredness pulled on his limbs, Bendy curled up on his lap as he rocked back and forth, back and forth. Alice was beside him, reading to herself, Boris hanging up his crayon drawings with Edgar’s help. Charlie was tidying, and Barley was tinkering away. 

And Joey’s chair was silent as he rocked, the sensation solely in his ears of tipping and righting. Astronomical clouds covered the sun and continued on their fronts, the nearest star’s heat coming and going. 

Willy had taken Linda along with his daughters on a camping trip, and so she was not at home.

Joey’s mind was a drifting bulb of emptiness, contemplating much but understanding naught. He did not mind too much, for his mind seemed too full all too often, but the public did not dwell on his musings and ramblings, though he turned words in his mind over, attempting to understand why the government in particular took interest in his scientific publishings.

He shrugged it off. There was nothing they could do to him, nor to his children. His mother had gotten him ambassadorial protection papers, forged or otherwise did not matter, and for that one act, he was grateful. The two of them had tentatively reached out to one another, Joey at last writing a return letter for one long destroyed. Response came sooner than he expected, and the scent of his mother’s perfume on parchment made his eyes water for more reasons than he ever wanted to admit. 

Henry’s musk entered the room, and Joey felt his heart race at the scent of faded aftershave and a sweet cologne, making Johan wonder why he was so susceptible to such small enticements, until lips pressed to his cheek, and the smell was nearly overpowering, comforting and familiar. 

A sigh slipped from his throat, and a mouth whispered in his ear, “I love you.”

Johan’s hand slipped into Henry’s hair, and he mumbled, “I love you, too.”

“Did I wake you?” Henry asked, and Joey loved to hear the concern in his voice. He shook his head lightly in reply. “Oh, good. You looked so peaceful, I wouldn’t’ve wanted to disturb you. Have I mentioned that you’re so pretty?”

“Yes, you have,” the children all answered in unison, rolling their eyes and giggling. Joey’s eyes opened and the two dads blushed, and Alice continued for her siblings, “All the time. You call Papi all sorts of things. The prettiest fella you ever saw, the most handsome, the most gorgeous, etcetera, etcetera.”

“Yeah, you always say stuff like that,” Boris piped up in agreement. “Like Alice said, _all_ the time.”

“Just because I say them all the time doesn’t mean that each time it’s not renewed,” Henry grinned broadly, tilting Johan’s chin and leaning towards his lips. All the kids burst into ‘ew!’, Henry’s smirk making Joey blush even though they did not kiss. The closeness left him gripping the handlebars of his rocking chair, and the tips of his shoes rubbed against each other as he squirmed so close to Henry’s grinning lips. “Because if he’s not the most gorgeous person I’ve ever met in my entire life, then no one is.”

It was an extreme task on Joey’s end to not launch onto the doctor and silence him immediately by swallowing those delicious, kind, loving words. 

Henry’s face slipped away from his own, and he found his breathing stutter back to life. It was so close, and so far, and Joey found it easier and harder to breathe all at once. 

His eyes were glued to Henry as he left the room, heart slamming hard in his chest.

“Papi’s got a crush!” Barley teased. “Papi’s got a crush on Daddy!”

The other children joined into the chant, and Henry poked his head in. 

“Joey’s crushing on someone?” he inquired, grinning at Joey’s mortified expression. “Oh, do tell.”

“No!” Edgar giggled, putting one hand on each of his sibling’s mouths, except Bendy, who never spoke, so there was no need to cover his. “No telling!”

“You,” Bendy said softly. “Papi loves you.”

Joey and Henry looked at each other. 

“Are you gonna kiss?” Edgar asked. Joey and Henry snapped to look at him, his eyes bright and starry, their faces blushing and reddened. “Kiss! Papi and Daddy need to kiss! They didn’t kiss in a long time. Daddy might’ve made some mistakes, but you two still love each other. You need a good smoochin’.”

“Daddy and Papi, sittin’ in a tree,” Charlie started, Alice and Barley joining in, “K I S S I N G!”

“They have spent far too much time around Lacie,” Joey muttered, hiding his face in his hands, turning a deeper red. “Dear god.”

“They sound like they know what they’re talking about, though,” Henry pointed out.

Joey glared at him, but it lacked any conviction, as Henry could see the want in his eyes, the love beaming out of those irises. 

He loved him so damn much.

***

Their breathing mingled. The chill in the air was perpetrated by a cold front, yet the way their hands touched made all of that seem like nothing. Something. Something insignificant in the face of their bonded skin. 

They slipped back into the house in unspoken agreement, the cold growing much too icy.

Nighttime stole the atmosphere. The whole of the world was as it should be, but bathed in dark moonlight rather than blazing sunlight. The firmament was dotted with stars, and from the window of their room, Henry could see it all, and he could see it bouncing off scarred skin.

Hesitantly, he spoke.

“Johan….”

Silence reigned in their bedroom.

“Yes, Henry?”

Said Henry turned his head to examine Joey’s profile, hesitating before going on with his words.

“Do you remember… our first kiss?”

Joey stared at the ceiling, and blinked, exhausted. 

“‘Course I do. Why?”

Henry’s hand came to caress Johan’s cheek.

“Was… I was your first kiss, wasn’t I?”

Johan swallowed roughly.

“Yes and no.”

Henry was quiet a moment longer, an odd, uncomfortable feeling in his chest.

“I… there was a stableboy on the estate. He… he tried to kiss me, but I, um. Declined. The two of us ended up in the closet, but we didn’t kiss. I was… too shy.”

“What did you two do, ‘in the closet’?” Henry asked, partially teasing, partially serious. 

“He, um, he took my shirt off, and that’s when I told him to stop. Also Rico came in then an’ he did the whole older brother spiel so the fella backed off.”

Henry hummed, looking out to the sky.

“Somethin’ the matter, darlin’?” Joey inquired. 

“I just… it’s so wild, that you had a child before you had your first kiss….”

Johan did not reply. Not for a while, but he knew Henry awaited a response.

“Yes.”

His place filled in the talk with one simple word, Henry went on.

“And I just. Kissed you. Without thinking. Without thinking of you.”

Joey winced. He did not want this conversation. 

“It’s in the past.”

Henry sighed.

“I know….”

Johan prompted;

“But?”

Henry pushed himself up to crawl on top of Johan, leaning close to whisper in his ear.

“I want to try again. I want to give you a real first kiss. One you’ll think about at night, all flustered and sweet. Not… the unexpectedly coerced one of the past.”

Joey looked up at Henry, his face blank.

“It won’t be a first kiss.”

Henry smiled, shook his head, and peppered kisses to Johan’s jawline, making his breathing pick up from the corpse like pace it was at moments before.

“It will be if you want it to be,” Henry promised, breaking the hazy, tired spell that bound Johan in place on the bed. Johan blinked, turning to face Henry with half lidded, heartbroken eyes, tugging at the strings of Henry’s own heart. “We’re back in our own ages. We’ve never kissed this time around. Not properly. So, it would be our first kiss in this world, and so, in every world.”

Henry watched as the cogs in Johan’s intelligent mind turned. The way he pondered in silence, in glorious, beautiful silence. 

“Would it really be our first kiss?” Johan’s voice was weak, but hopeful. “We’ve been together for so long, for so many many lives….”

“Yes,” Henry told him, pressing his hands to the side of Johan’s face. “It would be.”

“I’ve never kissed anyone, then,” Johan whispered, eyes falling shut. Henry kissed his forehead, comforting him as much as he could, stroking his shoulder softly. “I… You… whenever you and I kissed… it never sat right….”

“Do you think that there was a reason you felt like that?” Henry questioned quietly, but he had an idea already. He had felt that disbalance in the world, too. Only he caught onto it just now, and Joey was catching on along with him. “Or was it that… it never quite felt real?”

Joey was silent once more, but right before Henry was about to apologize for overstepping borders, Joey answered, “Yeah.”

“Felt like a dream, didn’t it?” Henry continued, sending chills down Joey’s spine. “I think it may have been.”

“Do you want to make it come true?” Joey whispered, wrapping his arms over Henry’s shoulders. Henry could feel the rapidfire thrum in those veins, and he was certain Joey could feel the pulsation of his own heartbeat through his arms. “Because I would love to.”

“Are you sure?” Henry checked, looking at him with marked consideration. Joey was close to saying ‘certain’, but the word caught in his throat. Henry pet the side of his face, and muscles he had no idea were tense unstressed. “Johan, honey, we don’t have to kiss right now. We can kiss when you’re comfortable with the thought of it, and with the act, too. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Joey breathed, sinking onto his bed. “Thank you. F-for understanding.”

“We can make our dreams come true whenever we’d like to,” Henry assured him, his smile twinkling and bright. “Just like we bring paper and ink to life. We’re magicians, pretty much.”

“You’re- You’re-!” Joey sputtered, trying to think of a return to such a blatant remark. “That’s banal, Henry!” 

“But we are,” Henry cheekily replied. “We’re magicians. Case closed.”

“I love you,” Joey groaned, his smile breaking free of his rictus. Henry kissed his cheeks, and the smile grew softer and fuller, and so did Henry’s heart, swelling. “What’s my magician codename then, Henry the astounding?”

“Joey the starchild,” Henry responded after a moment of pondering, waving an arm with great flamboyance. Joey laughed. “My honeybee. I love you, too, Johan.”

***

Johan painted on the ceiling. Recreations of Van Gogh, Degas, Cassatt, Michelangelo, Picasso, Dali, and Da Vinci, to name but a few, and today was a painting of Claude Monet’s Water Lilies. Though they were imperfect recreations, as they bore Johan’s touch and unique style, they nonetheless were the original paintings made personal. Henry loved watching the ceiling of the living room morph and change monthly into new fantastical realms of art in all sorts of styles and creative histories. Joey would chatter about the artist, who they were, why they created what they did, and when they did so.

It was remarkable skill that Joey weilded to shape and paint on a canvas craning above his neck. The white sheets that covered the furniture to protect it from drips were stored in a closet right beside the living room hall, being how often they were used. There were oft spotches of yellows and greens in Joey’s hair, and Henry marveled at how a man who was color deficient in eye was able to create such bright works across their inner sky. 

Sometimes, Henry would pick up a brush and join him in smooth strokes across the white ceiling, painting and creating life and breathing life back into the original creators, if they had passed from their time. Though Henry’s strokes were broader and smoother, both styles spun together in heavenlike harmony.

Henry loved all of it. 

He loved all of him.

Henry loved Joey, and Joey loved him back.

***

Together, they made all the colors that the human eye could see. Henry’s skin was a peachy soft tone, Joey’s a deep bark shade, the scars on his flesh shimmering gold. Joey’s red eyes seemed flecked with orange in the sunlight, and purple in the shadow, whereas Henry’s eyes appeared as perfect replicas of our beloved Earth, green and blue hues scratched apart to form land and sea. Henry’s hair was yellow gold, streaked with pink, orange, and red curls, Johan’s white silver, those blue and indigo tips painting the dark dusk sky. 

Without even one of those colors, they would not be themselves, nor would they have each other. Emotion would feel for nothing, yet, as we established, nothing is something. It would feel for an empty gaping hole in their souls, one that would ache and wait for the other to fill it with a comforting, familiar presence. 

***

It was a modge podge struggle to pick up the pieces of their fragmented life, to relieve the stress from their shoulders and backs, for Atlas to once more don his responsibility instead of Icarus. 

In the end of the day, the conceptualization, the first attempt, and the finalization of their life was completed to the greatest extent they could ever imagine, and with Joey seated next to him on the couch as they flipped through an album together, Henry was content. Joey, too, was happy to be close to the man he loved and their family, safe and sound and together at last. They joked and whispered to each other, holding one another tight in frail or strong arms, the comfort in proximity rather than protection. They were not perfect, they were not entirely sure of anything, but what they did have was one another, and that was what mattered to them.

“I’ll get us some tea,” Johan told Henry, rising from the couch. Henry smiled and nodded at the lanky man, settling back and waiting for his return. Henry loved watching the swing to his steps, as if there was music that only Joey could hear, and danced to incessantly. Henry longed to hear it alongside him, and to dance with him to the same hidden rhythm. Maybe one day they would. Joey handed him a cup of nana tea, the minty aroma filling the air around them. They sipped together in silence, a comfortable quiet that they both enjoyed for the sheer sake of the touchless intimacy it brought. Henry looked at Joey’s face, breath taken by the beauty of the man that only he was able to see. Anyone could see Johan’s superficial yet jaw dropping traits, but none of them, no one ever, got to see _this_. This wonderful person in a comfortable quiet, this soft loving being, the beauty inside his heart that could only be seen by someone who had lived in that same heart and had been brought back to life by it. Even those Joey loved, immensely, no matter how close they were, none of them ever got to see what Henry saw through his eyes. Joey’s gaze met his own awestruck one, soft and questioning with a slight tone of teasing. “What’s that look for, my d-darling Henry?”

“I’m so lucky,” Henry murmured. “I must be the luckiest man to ever have existed to be able to be with a guy like you. Anyone with you is so damn lucky, but I’m the absolute luckiest.”

“What makes you say that?” Johan asked, purely curious, and Henry could have cried from the simple joy of the chicano’s innocuous inquiries. “I’ve always found myself as m-more of a schlemazel, honestly.”

“Maybe alone you are,” Henry nodded to indicate understanding, taking Joey’s hand to show he was there for him and with him, and he would allow nothing to harm him evermore, whether from malicious intent or bad luck. “But with me, you’re a good luck charm. I love you, so much.”

Johan made a noise that was not intelligible. Henry grinned, tilting his head, and putting two fingers on the bottom of Joey’s to tilt his as well.

“What was that, honeybee?” Henry crooned, index finger moving back and forth and making Johan tremble where he sat, eyes wide and mouth open slightly. “You can tell me anything, doll.”

“You… you’re so wonderful,” Johan hide his face in his hands, blushing and _so damn cute_. “I… I love you.”

Henry took Joey’s hands from his face.

He smiled. 

Colors burst in Joey’s vision.


	2. Tint

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for mildly suggestive themes in the middle: starts with “Exactly,” Henry fumbled. Sammy rose a brow, tapping his watch. “Damnit Sammy. One incident. Though I should tell you it’s the only one, too.”, and ends with “What’s he waiting for?” Sammy asked, raising a brow. “Marriage?”
> 
> warning for some suggestive content near the end: starts with "Joey nodded, and they slipped down the hall together", and ends with “W-wait, I-”  
> stay safe, and thank you for stopping by <3

Joey sat at his desk, typing away a letter to his mother. Of course, he was too nervous to hand write one, and this was an easy compromise. Type it up, sign it, send it via raven to Night Vale. 

Her letters were written in that same easygoing, languid fashion she spoke in, and he often had Henry read them aloud for him so as not to slip into a depressive state reminded of days past. Unpleasant as the letters may have been, they still had this undertone of a choppy trying that even Johan could read in her text. Nothing would change that, and Johan’s heart eased for her - despite his better judgment. Even though he knew he might get hurt again, he tried to accept that as a natural consequence, tentatively opening the door to a relationship between them once more.

Even if it terrified him to pieces.

He ignored that terror in his chest, and steeled himself to face her if that awful day would ever come.

Luckily, that was a pretty massive “if”. 

He would be glad to keep it that way. 

A ravenous feeling occupied his emotions, vast and encompassing. It was not the hunger most people endured, it was the hunger for  _ work _ . Work hard, work happy. Happy work? Work is happy? Words that Johan could not truly express nor understand flicked through his mind. He shoved them away. To him, one of the greatest appeals of work was the way that his mind could go blank from the constant flow. Through his work, words seeped into his mind, and left it, in and out without consequences. 

Words that he was not certain existed at all. 

It did not matter to him as he typed rapidly, personal letters completed, more work to be done.

There would always be more work to be done. 

And Joey was insatiable for it.

***

Henry did not regret agreeing to assist Norman with cleaning the lenses of the projectors that had been used in that week. It was a mindless task, and allowed him to think. It also allowed him to repay Norman, if only slightly. There was a tranquil, quiet peace between the two men, Henry’s steady and broad hands in rhythm with Norman’s steadier and gnarlier ones. There was nothing much to say, being that they knew each other quite well, and both were not the type to kiss and tell, lips sealed on nearly any matter known to humankind. 

Without any words to speak, or discussions to be had, Henry thought. 

He thought about his jobs (both of them), how (with great difficulty) and why (because of Eleanor) he shifted from general practitioning to being a trauma and terminal illness specialist, debated its futility (he could not save her), and decided to persevere (for the world he owed).

He thought about his other job, the one he came to in dire straits (loans piled up, school and medical bills grew more and more, desperately cutting corners and sending Linda to live with his parents), luck and magic bringing together two unlikely (and unlucky) people (in a burst of kindness, or irony). He remembered the look on Joey’s face when they first met (gaunt, frightened, sad, but so soft), recalled the kindness he had shown him (paid his loans, funded his schooling, raised his daughter). Joey did not just pick him up from dirt, he carried him (with this job) to a better and fulfilling life. Along with the job came friends, came support, came love, came family. There was relaxation in the daily haul for the day, and there was harmony between the workers, in spite (or maybe because) of their odd choices in work spaces (Really Lamont? Fain? The bathroom and  _ sewer _ ? What, do you travel through water or something?).

He thought about those friends, and looking over at Norman, he knew that things would be alright. 

He thought about his children, and the small matter Johan had brought up about time and jumping, and how the children (especially Linda, or perhaps she was merely the most noticeable) seemed to have the most interesting switches in their age at random times. Joey confessed that it was something beyond him, but had noted that since Henry returned, the ages began to settle and resume going at a normal pace. Now firmly at 11, Joey continued his teaching Linda of the numbered world beyond their own, and reported that her progress was natural and smooth. 

He thought about Joey.

Love, love.

***

Linda tossed the bubble of ink up into the air. A match on fire caught it, and the orb burst into flame. Linda held the bubble aloft, turning it inside out to consume the flame, until the flame consumed it. Marina watched, enthralled and entranced. 

“That’s always so cool,” Marina gushed, patting her round cheeks with her free hand, the other putting away her matchbox. Linda beamed at the compliment, looking to a tree with a wave of her hand. “Don’t be like that, Linda! It really is super duper cool.”

“I know it is, but I wouldn’t be able to do it without your amazing skills with those matches,” Linda swatted at her, wearing the other girl’s oversized sweater in the crisp fall air. Marina was not without a jacket though, so as not to catch a cold and make Willy launch into the panic state of worried father. “Otherwise it would just be a floating bubble of ink. Which is more weird than cool, in the way I think about it.”

“Maybe,” Marina admitted, the two sitting on a log at the edge of the Franks property, looking up at the clouds and watching them flow by, massive wisps of condensation forming and remaking images and pictures in the airscape. “I think it’s cool. Even without the fire. The fire just… adds to the coolness level, you know? Both things are cool alone, but when you put them together, they’re even cooler.” 

“You mean like us?”

“Like us!”

***

Henry spent what felt like months (though it certainly was not, more along three weeks) looking for one. The  _ perfect _ one. On the one hand, part of him whispered that Eleanor’s was perfect, and nothing could ever top it, but on another hand mentioned that Diane’s was  _ also _ perfect and nothing could top that one, and on  _ another _ hand he knew that there had to be the most perfect one for the most perfect person. Perhaps Joey’s last name should have been Wright, because he absolutely  _ was _ Mr. Right for Henry. He tried to calm down as he walked through the Diamond District, which, even if Joey were to bump into him as he strolled, would have an easy enough reason to be there. The entire atmosphere was a welcome change from the humbling streets of the city, the bustle greatly similar, but of a more haggling neighborhood style rather than too many people walking too quickly with too much to do and too little time to do it. It was a change, and a welcome one for Henry. There should not be any reason at all that Joey should see him at all here, being that he came down with another (minor) bout of hypothermia, clearly caused by jumping right back into working as soon as he could, without any gentle graduation or taking any breaks at all. Confining Joey to bed with the man thoroughly chastised by nature was easy enough.

Henry used every ounce of his mind, and eventually gave in, and walked into the first store he spotted.

The clerk was a young woman, her father standing by not far to keep an eye on her. Henry smiled, knowing that she would one day inherit this trade, and judging by the expression on her face, she was both excited and nervous to be practicing on her relative own. Once more, Joey’s voice resounded in his mind,  _ anticipatory _ . 

“How can I help you, sir?” she addressed him, and he stepped up, hesitating.

“I need a ring. An engagement ring,” Henry told her, his mouth going dry by the last word. A swallow saved him from choking any further. “Something great, something….”

Henry thought, thought about what set Johan apart from anyone else he had ever known.

“Something meaningful.”

“I see…” she nodded, and pulled out a small box containing a small lot of gems. Henry immediately dismissed the clear one. “Not the diamond?” 

“No,” Henry said, sounding surprised even to himself. “Not the diamond. It doesn’t suit. Not really the pearl, either.”

“Alright,” she pointed at the green stone. Henry appreciated the way they shone, just like Joey’s craft. “Do they have an olive skin tone? If so, the emerald might clash, or it might make it seem to glow. Emeralds symbolize rebirth, fertility, and love. Well, the love part might be hogwash, as all of them symbolize love, but each symbolizes a different type. For the emerald, the symbolism is a true love, and makes for a sign of material wealth.”

Henry pointed at the red gems. They captured his attention for their sheen, the same glint of Joey’s eyes in their facets. 

“Ruby,” she remarked, “Good for any skin tone, except pink. They symbolize nobility, power, and passionate love.”

Henry shook his head. It was not Johan. It was, but… there was a lot more to Johan than his princely demeanor, than his unwanted ‘gift’, than his lips and body. The ruby would be too superficial.

“Next gem is opal.”

“Don’t think that would work either.”

“Ah, so, what about this one?” she pointed at a beautifully brilliant blue gem. “Sapphire. Virtuous, holy, wise, beloved. It is a gem of hope, of faith. It’s for faithfulness and for sincerity.”

Henry smiled wider with everything she said.

***

Johan shivered under his sheets.

For once, he had to agree with his doctor - it had been stupid of him to expect that he could merely continue working without any easing into it, and now here he was - stuck in bed, not working, again. This was the fifth time he had gotten hypothermia in the recent past, a thought that made him scowl, especially at the thought of how much work he was missing. Additionally, his shift to the military would not be too long away, half of a year of Henry being back moving by with hardly any notice. Henry had been… an angel. He took care of the kids, made sure that the studio was running well, everything going as smooth as Henry’s dry baritone.

Joey shivered again, a shiver that may not have been instigated by the rebounded illness that settled in his temperatures. 

His hands seemed burning hot on his arms, even though logically he knew they were frigid, a whine slipping out from his throat in his uncomfortable state. 

He missed Henry - even though he was just at work, and had seen him quite recently before he had gone out. He wanted to see him again already, to hold his hand, to cuddle with him, and by the heavens, he wanted to kiss him. To be so close yet so far from the man was maddening, cathartic for them both, but nonetheless maddening.

Johan groaned. 

There was nothing he could do but wait for Henry to return from the city, every nerve on fire with anticipation for something he knew he would not receive on his own choice. His shivering body tempted him greatly, whispering insidious suggestions that he should give in to the primal insanity flooding his entire system, bear upon Henry and claim him. The other, rational, part of him was certainly  _ not _ going to attempt such a thing, but he could not deny the appeal. 

The thoughts were minorly disturbing, being that he had never experienced such before, and they filled him with a feral warmth that he found quite intolerable. Thinking back, he had felt them before, but in a way that, while he was curious, he was too afraid of the consequences that would occur from attempting anything on the feeling. Henry had told him the feeling was a sort of hunger, but not a literal one as he was feeling at the moment. He had once loved meat, which made it all the easier for his step father to have tricked him, and the want never really left - he simply never acted on it. Now, it was back and all the more powerful, all the more frightening for the storming  _ desire _ . Joey gasped and shook as his body sent out a shockwave of heat.

“Johan? Are you alright?” Henry’s voice, concerned and low, came to his ears, forcing him to swallow a shriek as the man of his fantasies appeared beside him. “You’re looking… a bit odd, like symptoms are mixing up. Are you feeling ok, honeybee?”

“I’m p-perfectly fine,” Johan tried to insist, but it came out as a breathless huff. Henry’s brows shot up and he put a hand to Joey’s forehead. Johan leaned into the cool touch with his heart pounding. “Absolutely wonderful, d-doc.”

“I’m not sure about that,” Henry slowly remarked. “You’re flushed and your pulse is erratic and you’re talking too fast, are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, I really am,” Joey replied, the ‘m’ drawling out as Henry pet his cheek. “Ohh, Henry….”

“I’m gonna get you a soup,” Henry told him, smiling and pressing a kiss to his forehead. “I set it up before I left so it should be done now.”

“Thank you,” Johan remarked. Henry left from the room, and Joey let out the breath he did not know he was holding, then did it again. When Henry came back, he propped him up on pillows so he could eat better. They did not talk much while Joey was eating, Henry sitting on the armchair beside his bed, the chair so frequently used there that it practically became permanent. After Joey ate, however, Henry and he began conversing about the day slowly, and gradually gained speed in their ceaseless conversation, leaning towards each other and planning the facets of the world. Joey sometimes was distracted by Henry’s lips, but the distraction became less and less as their dialogue went on. 

Eventually, Henry had to go so as to take care of the kids, and Joey was left alone. He debated continuing down the dangerous road of thought he had been on previously, then decided against it, and settled in to sleep instead. 

***

The next day went about the same, though unlike other times Joey was sick, he was allowed to do a little bit of work. Henry decided that because Joey would be likely to jump right back into the fray again, it would be better for him to ease into it with the arrangement of slower exiting into his office but earlier time to work in general. Joey made the work stretch out several hours by doing about two minutes and then promptly falling asleep to help his body in its fight against the hypothermia. Though his temperature went up by degrees every so often, it more commonly went up by degrees - meaning in miniscule increments. He was not happy with having to wait so long to heal, but there was nothing that he could do against it.

Johan was napping when Bertrum came to check on him, as well as when Norman crept in some time after his adoptive uncle, nor when Shawn slipped silently (read: very noisily) within the chicano’s apartment a long time after the projectionist.

Joey was effectively knocked out.

***

The day after was more simplistic, at least for Joey, being that he managed to stay awake the entire day without any problems. Waiting for Henry to come home was no easy task, but it was much less painful than it may have once been. Traversing through the path to death made anything feel like childsplay, with the maddening routes and pathways that twisted along to the inevitable end to everything. To inch along that road, with masses of physical and emotional suffering to prompt the next plank in the bridge, where each and every decision held a weight far greater than those of earthen choices, had trained Joey to remember his values and stick to what was important. It had, quietly, motionlessly, changed his values even as he changed inputs and outputs in the zero point energy field outside the infinite worlds and universes living consciousness, his own consciousness delved into thoughts and questions he would have never dreamed of asking, especially never aloud.

Questions like ‘What about  _ me?” _

Questions like those frightened Joey. To think of himself was strange, odd, unnatural. Yet between the bridge and Henry, they appeared more and more often, and he found that the more of himself he found, the more Henry attuned himself to being by Johan’s side. No matter what the frail artist requested, Henry would make it his duty to retrieve it. It was flattering, it was sweet, it was kind, and it let Joey allow himself to think  _ for _ himself, rather than only allowing his values to decide for him. 

Johan fell asleep into a light doze as his own typing lulled him to rest, the work both clearing and filling his mind like a steady stream of water flowing through stiff mountain peaks and down to the gurgling river. 

His dreams of water and sunlight were gently dismantled by his Ray of sunshine pressing a hand to his face, pulling him from the haze of night visions.

“You slept through dinner,” Henry murmured to him, holding a steaming plate. “So I brought you something to eat.”

“Thank you, darlin’.”

Joey ate quietly, Henry flipping through the pages of a medical book. Johan was able to read some of it in the reflection of Henry’s glasses. Once Joey finished, Henry made a move to take the plate away, but Joey’s hand wrapped around his.

“Stay with me tonight?”

“I… yes.”

* * *

“I had some weird thoughts, couple days ago.”

“Did you now?”

“Mhm.”

“What kind of ‘weird thoughts’?”

Henry’s eyes sparkled as he adjusted his head on the pillow. The two were close enough to see each other clearly, which was not too close but not too far, being that Johan’s vision was worse than Henry’s. 

They were settled on Joey’s bed, the blanket upon both, not a single limb of either touching, but the closeness of proximity was more than intimate enough. 

“You know how you said desire can act like a, a hunger?”   
  


“Yeah? You've been feeling hungry?” Henry’s brow raised as his lips twitched in amused adoration. The expression faltered as Joey looked away from him. “Johan, doll, you know I’d never judge you for your feelings, right? No matter how ‘weird’ they are. Okay?”

“Mm….”

“You don’t have to continue talking if you don’t want to.”

“It’s… It’s not supposed to be like a  _ literal _ hunger, right?”

“... no. No, not really. Psychologically it can be likened to it, but… I’ve never heard of someone growing literally hungry for getting dirty.”

“Must you speak in euphemisms?”

“Oh ho, Mr. Too Shy to say Sex is getting flustered? Are you sure that you want me to say I’ve never heard of anyone getting hungry for sex, but there’s a first time for everything, and I’d be down to quell that hunger with you if you want to have sex.” 

“Henry…!”

“Come on, Joey, it’s just fu-”

A hand pressed to Henry’s mouth, still cooler than it should have been, but nearing Joey’s natural temperature slowly. 

“It’s not  _ just _ ,” Johan murmured, and Henry, looking into his eyes, completely understood. Joey’s hand slipped away from Henry’s lips, but Henry stopped it with a hand of his own, kissing each knuckle and joint of those slender digits. Johan, blushing, looked to the side. “Not for us, at least.”

“With you, Joey?” Henry began, nipping the PIP of his index to gain his eyes. “It would never be  _ just _ . With you, it would always be something special, wonderful, no matter how often. It would be magic.”

Johan smiled, turned away, and said no more for the rest of the night, falling into a deep calm sleep, the best he had since Henry’s return. 

***

Henry gave each of the children their lunches, every one of the bags marked carefully. Johan, wrapped up in the fluffiest blanket that could be made into a robe, kissed their foreheads as they dashed out the door to school. Henry smiled as he looked at the man, the sunlight streaming through the back of his hair, making the white appear a pale molten platinum. Henry ran a hand along Joey’s side, garnering the most lovely shiver from him, one that traveled all the way from whence Henry’s hand touched to the tips of his toes and base of his throat, a bated breath escaping him. 

“I love you,” Henry murmured, kissing Joey’s back, trailing down a bit to kiss the small of it as well, along those hips that Joey was so shy about, but were so regal and handsome. “I love everything about you, and everything you are. I love you for who you are, not anything else. Everything else? It’s all just perks. Like Wally says, the little things that brighten the world. And this body right here?” Henry grinned, making Joey flush with the sheer animalism behind it, the blush intensifying from Henry’s hands sliding up and down his body once more, a shy smile breaking free of his rictus. “It’s a perk!”

“You’re vile,” Joey rebuked, no bite to his bark. He kissed Henry’s forehead, smiling. “I suppose that was what you wanted, you jealous fiend? Goodness, j-jealous of his own children. I love you, too.”

“Not jealous, just glad to get the perk,” Henry smirked, pinching Joey’s cheek in a manner not to twist, but to brush across his skin just another time before he had to go to work. “I’ll see you later honeybee.”

“See you soon, Ray,” Joey replied in a mumble, as Henry was already out the door. Johan tightened his blanket/robe around himself and returned to his room, picking up a novel to finish. 

***

Bertrum and he looked over finalization plans for some wings of the park. They planned to build it on a site outside of the proper city so that they would be able to expand if need be (or success demanded), and Johan’s tunneling and cavework certificate he had earned in highschool would come in handy depending on their choice of location. 

Wally was also there, discussing people's litter habits and how to maintain cleanliness in the park. Shawn sat nearby quietly, interjecting when he thought he had something important to say (read: commenting and interrupting loudly and cursing everytime he had a mishap with his sewing needle). 

No one minded Shawn’s antics, and did their best to answer his questions. His questions were, after all, quite natural to be asked and helped them understand what they would have to improve upon. Shawn was far more insightful than he appeared, though Joey would have never judged him by his attitude or clumsiness, rather his dedication and honesty, both of which showed the thoughtful and kindhearted man within. 

Johan was still wrapped tightly in his cloak, now with extra fluff and padding sewn in, being that otherwise he would be far too cold. In Henry’s words, it would be better for Joey to be hot and healing than cool and degrading. Since Joey was nearly completely remedied, the heat was undeniably warm and he was anxious to return to his bed and less constricting blanket. Perhaps nap. Still, there was work to do.

There would always be more work to have done. He did not mind at all as he worked with his chosen uncle on their plans. He looked forward to it, if anything. It was much better than hacking himself to pieces to be a phantom of death’s loving, final embrace.

Still, he wondered at times, when his vision swam and his hands shook, when he had not seen his bed in days, when Henry’s concerned hand touched his cool cheek, when his knees wobbled and his legs threatened to collapse.

Was there any difference at all?

He ignored the question.

***

They made a condition, that first night Henry rejoined Johan in bed. No touching. Hands, fine, but no pulling close or nuzzling, nothing physically intimate. 

It was fine with Henry to wake up looking at his darling. Three days of blissful sleep to be broken by the heavenly sight of Joey, either sitting up with sunshine kissing his skin and causing shadows on his pyjamas, or stretching off the bed and getting dressed, or still sleeping, face angelic and calm, the beauty that only Henry got to see shining outwards. Only Henry got all of this. All of this heaven.

He had been there. He knew what it was like, if only through hazy half memory. 

It was heaven to wake by Joey’s side every morning.

***

Daily routine flowed, sending the children off to school with their lunches, making sure Johan was bundled up before he kissed his hand and departed for the university, returning and making sure Joey was wearing his cloak if he was working, and  _ not _ working too hard if he was in bed. There was a lot to do in the day, along with his quota of animations and studies. It exhausted him, but in a satisfying way. He was recovering just as Joey was, albeit on a different road. It felt brilliantly fulfilling, especially to slip into bed with Joey after dinner at the end of the day, talking to him about anything and everything that they wanted to discuss, to run his hand through those beautiful fluffy mass of hair that he adored with his whole heart.

Wally  _ really _ was right. It was the little perks that made everything taste like a massive chocolate cake.

***

Henry woke up with Johan pressed to his chest, his temperature at his normal one finally, easily discernible by how close he was to Henry. Henry’s eyes widened and his heart pounded as Joey nuzzled into his chest, a sigh slipping from his sleepstained lips. A quick debate crossed his mind, settling it with the knowledge that Johan would not be pleased if their rule was broken. He shook Joey’s shoulder to rouse him, earning nothing but Joey cuddling closer. 

“Joey,” he whispered, making his eyelids qwop with the sound. “Johan, honey, wake up.”

“Hm?” Joey’s eyes opened slowly. A smile bloomed across his face, and he buried his face against Henry’s chest once more. “Mm. G’morning, sunshine. Time’s it?”

“I,” Henry realized he had not checked the time, and then twisted to look at the clock on the side table. He squinted, unable to see the exact time without his glasses. “Early o’clock.”

“Not ‘kiss o’clock’?” Johan teased, reminding Henry of that little stunt the stout man had pulled. He had replaced the 2 on Joey’s office clock with ‘kiss’, and scheduled a meeting for then. Johan had been wonderfully bemused, and had kept it as Henry had modified it. “I’m pretty sure it is….”

Henry’s breath caught in his throat as Joey’s lips neared his own, and he scooted away. 

“Wait, wait,” Henry tripped over his words, eyes wide. He put on his glasses and sat up, passing the rose colored half moons to Joey, who was dumbstruck by surprise (or sleepiness). “Joey, remember… the, um, the rule?”

Johan pondered a moment, trying to figure out what it was he had to remember, then his eyes widened and mouth opened in surprise.

“Ah.”

“Um, yeah…” Henry tried to stifle the blush that rapidly conquered his face. Joey sat up, and swung himself to sit on Henry’s lap, the red exploding over his cheeks as Johan caressed them. “J-Joey?”

“I think we’ve earned the right to say ‘damn the rules’,” Joey whispered, close, so close, Henry thought his heart might rip from his chest. “If you want.”

“Do I want?” Henry asked, rhetorically, his eyes wide and hands gripping the sheets. “God, of course I want to. But… do you?”

“Henry,” Joey crooned, and then - 

For the first time in over half a year their lips touched, and Henry melted. Joey’s quiet laugh meant the world to him, and his hands came to the other’s cheeks as well, finally remembering to move them. 

He was leaning back and reeling to accommodate the gentle osculations, Joey tilted over him and hands smoothly running along his limbs.

Normally, Henry took the lead for these moments, normally, Henry started these touches, normally Henry teased and smirked and ravished, yet now that he was on the receiving end of the rope, he was nearly overwhelmed.

They were desperate for one another, but neither increased the intensity, neither wanted to. A slow tempo took their pace, heads tilting and hands touching where they could. 

They pulled away after a long moment of stillness, looked at each other’s eyes and immediately moved back into the kiss, little kisses where they could whisper ‘I love you’ without leaving fully. Slowly, slowly, Henry slid down the bed, Joey on his hands to support himself as he kissed him from atop his vantage point. Henry wrapped Joey’s body in his arms, pulling him closer, and Johan relaxed against him.

“Damn,” Henry exhaled before kissing him again. “Damn, how long has it been since we’ve kissed? How long has it been since  _ this _ ?”

“Too long,” Joey murmured in reply, and spoke so softly once more before he pressed back to his lips. “Far too long.”

Their kiss was long and slow, felt far beyond their lips and hands, an intertwine of body and soul that made Henry whisper Joey’s name with fervency, an inescapable blessed connection that nearly made Joey weep from the sheer feeling of  _ right _ .

“I love you,” he whispered onto Henry’s mouth. Henry’s hum reverberated to him, causing him to shiver with happiness. The clock buzzed just as Joey hesitated with thought, and the ringing sealed it for him. He turned it off, and turned to Henry once more. “Just this once, screw work.”

“Joey, really?”

“Yes.” Joey nodded firmly, then turned shy, and Henry  _ loved _ to watch that shift in his soft demeanor. “Do you want to… more?”

Henry, dazed, propped himself up on his elbows, smiling dopily.

“What do you mean by that, honey?”

“I think I’d like a taste of sugar, if you catch my m-meaning, sweetheart.”

Henry’s grin grew. 

“Hell yes.”

Johan dove to his lips, intensity maddening and hold ensnaring. Henry felt as though he had been swept into the sea by a siren’s call, but every moment had been worth the chill and ice. He tried to match the passion of the man he loved, smiling and chuckling just as Joey did. With an easy push of gentle strength, Henry made his way to the top, bearing down on Joey with all the power of the ocean, embrace of warm sun baked soil compressing upon him.

“I love you,” Joey gasped in a moment apart. “I love you so much, Henry.”

“I love you too,” Henry groaned, smile soft in his cheeks. He kissed him again, deeper, longer, slower. It lasted until their door banged open, Alice complaining about Barley; and she stopped mid sentence, her mouth slack as she stared at her fathers. Henry, since Joey was frozen, addressed her. “Good morning, angel. Is it breakfast time?”

“Apparently,” Linda snarked from the hall, snorting a bit as Joey turned darker. Henry got off of Joey, and Joey turned to be face down against the mattress, mortified before his children. Henry chuckled a bit, full of affection, and kissed the back of Joey’s head. 

“I’ll make the kids breakfast and see them off to the stop,” he informed him. Joey hummed in affirmation. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Henry,” Joey sighed. True to his word, Joey soon smelled french toast, and after the chorus of goodbyes. Henry soon returned to Joey’s side with a tray of the battered bread, yet pushed away his hand when he attempted to take a piece. Not understanding the game he was playing at, Joey inquired, “what?”

Without responding with words, Henry took a piece and put it in his teeth, smiling and leaning close to Joey, guiding the blushing man with a finger under his chin.

_ “Oh.” _

Shy would be a good word to describe Joey at times, and now was one of those times. Henry loved every nervous flick of his eyes, every twitch in his fingers or stutter of his lips.

Pulling him close, Henry deepened their sweet kiss. 

Scratch his previous thoughts. Heaven had nothing on this. Not a heaven without Joey. Joey  _ was _ Henry’s home, was his heaven and heart. Precious and sweet and kind and lovely and growing….

“I love you, Joey.” 

“I l-love you, too, Henry.”

***

There had been some workers who had checked on them, being that Joey was always working and the sight of his vacant office was alarming, yet once Bertrum got the news he made sure that no one else would disturb the couple again that day.

They stayed in Joey’s room most of the day, to hold, caress, and kiss, but slipped out to the roof to do the same in fresh air, sharing their meals in the dining room, hands still touching and close. Kisses happened between bites, speech inhibited by the total lack of desire to initiate conversation. There were other things that mouths could do, and other things they did pursue. One would think that this was the only day they were to be together, yet Henry and Joey learned that to waste their time would be pointless, and so expended their time best they could. 

Johan sighed as Henry set him onto his bed after dinner with the kids, kissing along his neck and to his ear, nibbling the soft cartilage and lobe, absolutely every micrometer he possibly was able to. Joey’s hands slipped into Henry’s hair, running through the curls with sounds and hums of happiness. Their bodies were puzzle pieces that they interlocked and reset, each time a little bit different despite being the same pieces. 

Neither questioned it, neither needed to - they knew who they were, and they knew their shifts and changes, and they adored each other for it. It was all they wanted - this life, this puzzling, jigsawed life. 

Together. 

With one another, always able to help, always ready to be there. It was their whole world and system, and their gravity kept them pulling in, out, near, away.

“I love you,” Joey whispered. Henry replied with the same words, “And I love you.”

“Do you think that it was right of us to have d-done this?” Joey asked, his words tainted by his worry. Henry smiled, brushing his cheek. Johan’s ear pressed to Henry’s heart, listening to the steady beat. “I’m worried that we’re rushing… or something.”

“Joey, we’ve spent lifetimes together,” he reminded him. “You don’t need to worry. If you’re happy, I’m happy, and that’s that. Okay?”

“Mmm,” Joey looked at him from the corner of his eye from where he was situated on Henry’s chest. Henry loved the flashes that sparked through them, the little signs of that genius brain hidden under a soft demeanor and sweet words. “I think I need a little more boosting to be happy.”

“That so?” Henry questioned, smirking smugly. Joey nodded, inching up a bit. “How is it that I can perk you up?”

“I think you can figure it out, Dr. Stein,” Joey replied coyly. “Perform a diagnosis if you must.”

“I suppose I can prescribe to you something, but you must come to me for it.”

“Isn’t that… unethical?”

“I’m sure blackmail will keep you coming.”

“Scoundrel!”

“Hush and take your medicine, honey.”

* * *

Johan stared as Henry leapt at the man who had said with a smug face that Joey would have to go to service, sick or not, being that his temperature was ‘normal’. Henry had tried to explain repeatedly, with the vein in his neck throbbing increasingly with every time, that Joey’s hypothalamus processed things differently, to no avail. Now, Joey, who was embarrassed each time the military inspector grinned over him, watched silently as Henry socked him across the face. 

“You son of a bitch!” Henry snapped as Joey pulled him back carefully, “Can’t you see that this isn't a fucking game?!”

The man sneered as he held his bloody nose, “I don’t see why you care so much for him. If he’s your business partner, you can run the business while he’s gone. If he’s the caretaker for your daughter and other children, the same follows. There is no reason for you to  _ care _ so terribly for him,  _ unless… _ .”

Henry and Joey both stiffened, clearly hearing the threat. Joey paled, and was glad for his mask to hide his blanched expression. The man, satisfied to see they were now both in line, staunched his bleeding nose and adjusted his papers. 

“There are reasons other than your request that I am here, Dr. Stein,” Hackenbush remarked, glancing over both of them. His tone dropped the self satisfied grip, and softened as he looked at Joey, though he could not see much of him. “I do suggest to go, even if you are ill. It would be in your best interest. We - not the branch I work for, my side job - had received a letter from who we believe is related to you, if you are interested.” 

The mask’s eyes narrowed. He signed to Henry, who interpreted for him.

“He wants to know what it is.”

“It was describing some very obscure government program, called project electrolyte,” he explained. Joey and Henry looked at one another and shrugged. “Whoever this was should not have had any knowledge of this project. The captain of the submarine you will be serving on will write a false report as he is in our cohort working for this… madam.”

Henry felt Joey stiffen next to him, and took his hand, looking up at him from an angle that let him see his face, wide eyed and mind churning.

“She’s paying quite a bit to keep you out of the sights of the FBI,” Hackenbush examined them both with a critical eye. “Do you know of her ladyship Alessandra Ramirez?”

***

“You really are a prince and you never told me!?” 

“Not a prince! Nobility does not d-dictate kinghood!” 

“But my  _ lord-!” _

“Henry, cease,” Johan commanded, and Henry fell silent with the sheer shock of how much Joey would have fit the role. “I am no different than I would have b-been if my mother was not friends with her majesty the late Queen Victoria. Jus’ because she was doesn’t mean I’m suddenly anything special.”

“Joey,” Henry smiled softly, a hand running over his thigh to distract him from negative thoughts that were sure to be knocking on his skull. “You are something special, but you are right, it’s not because of your mother, not at all. It’s because of who  _ you _ are. No one and nothing else.”

Joey might not have been a prince, but damn could he kiss like one.

Probably better.

***

“Someone's been distracted lately,” Allison teased Henry as he entered the pub room. Henry grinned and winked, making her laugh. “I take it only good distractions?”

“The best of the best,” Henry replied, and whistled, his face wearing an expression of foxy phantasmagoria, dirty in ways that only a trained eye could pick out. “Was tempted to knock some ink off my desk just to get a better view of said distraction.”

“Joey’s up and about?” Allison rightfully inquired. Henry nodded, pouring for himself and Jack a coffee. “I need to give him a cake I promised him. Should I give it tomorrow or the day after?”

“Whenever you’d like,” Henry answered, raising a brow. “Why ask me?”

Allison shrugged. 

“Merely supposed that you as the chef of the family, would know when you’d want it,” she explained. Henry realized that she had a point, and asked her, “Well, can you tell me the type of cake?”

“Strawberry shortcake with cream filling,” she pridefully answered. Henry applauded quietly to show his impression. “I have it almost done and you can just let me know when you want it.” 

“Tomorrow would be good,” Henry smiled. They walked together to the music department, chatting between themselves quietly about their partners. While Susie and Joey were the best friends to possibly exist on the planet, Henry would have probably had to admit that his closest companion in the studio was Sammy (aside from Joey). Sammy; despite pretending that he was some sort of lone wolf without a friend in the world, was greatly beloved by many in the studio, and was close to many as well, though he might not have even noticed it. In fact, Henry was going to the music department to have some time with the director, for both of their sakes. He and Allison split, her path taking her to the recording booth, his to Sammy’s office. “Have a good day, Ms. Pendle!”

“You too, Mr-  _ Dr. _ Stein,” she chuckled and waved. Henry rolled his eyes, smiling to himself as he turned around. 

Sammy spotted him through the window of his office, and greeted him with a raise of a finger. Waiting patiently for Sammy to finish his work, Henry leaned against the wall and counted how many details in the wood he could notice. When he got to his four hundred thirteenth, the door opened and Sammy allowed him to come into his office.

“Hey, Henry,” he nodded, smiling, pulling up a chair for him to sit. “To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you down in my abode?”

“Just wanted to see a friend, is that any trouble?” Henry teased, earning a soft scoff. Sammy opened his desk and offered him a cigar from a case, which he took after a moment of thought. Sammy’s office was one of the ventilated ones, which made the musician take the opportunity to smoke within every now and then, though Joey would keep out if he got even the slightest whiff of tobacco. Henry inhaled a long drag, Sammy puffing out a smoke ring with a self satisfied expression. “How’ve you been holding yourself up, Lawrence?”

“Just fine,” Sammy answered. “And how’ve you been, Stein? You have a slight bruise on your neck that your hair covers just enough.”

Henry’s hand reached for the mark before he could stop himself. Sammy smirked as a slight blush entered the animator’s cheeks. 

“I take it you and Joey have been making up?” Sammy probed, leaning back. Henry, his mouth dry, nodded, hiding his fluster with another draw on his cigar. “What are your little plans for this development of amour?”

“Ah, not, um, not sure,” Henry confessed, feeling warm on his chest. Sammy’s grin told that he was well aware of his discompose. Henry wondered how the mere thought of a person could make his breath hitch, and swallowed, hastily continuing. “We still have been going out every tuesday, and I’m thinking about having a stay at home day. We had one a little bit ago, which was….”

“Pleasureable?” Sammy inquired, his cheeky grin showing that his word choice was extremely intentional and that he had no desire to change it. “ _ Touching _ ?”

“I-” Henry choked on his cigar again, failing to hide his embarrassment with it. With watering eyes, managing to speak was the most he could do at the moment. “It was nice.”

“Got all dizzy with your duke?” Sammy’s grin was near feral, extremely close to breaking into laughter. Henry had to adjust his seating uncomfortably, biting his lip to keep his mouth shut. “Had it off?”

“No,” Henry tried to smirk, and it came out as a blushing smile. “Joey is more of a face artist anyways.”

Sammy stared at him with an open mouth, his high cheekbones becoming in high contrast with the rest of his face. Henry slapped a hand over his own mouth, red exploding over his face. 

“I didn’t mean to say that,” Henry almost whined, his voice tight. “I… forget that. Please.”

“No, no no,” Sammy was delighted with the outcome. “Oh, I want  _ all _ the details.”

“Sammy, please.”

“Fine,” Sammy sighed, yet his eyes flashed. “One detail. I don’t think Joey would be very happy to have that little bit of information slip out, hm?”

“You wouldn’t  _ dare _ .”

“Why not? I know if I said the same about you, you wouldn’t mind as much.”

“Exactly,” Henry fumbled. Sammy rose a brow, tapping his watch. “Damnit Sammy.  _ One _ incident. Though I should tell you it’s the only one, too.”

“Wait, only once?” Sammy seemed surprised. Henry nodded, dark. Sammy’s look quickly turned into one of excitement. “Then you  _ have _ to tell me! Goddamnit man, take some pride in yourself! You got sucked by  _ the _ Joey Drew. That’s an achievement many would be envious of.”

“Are you serious?”

“About what?” Sammy raised his cigar, taking a slow drag. “About people wanting to get on their knees for  _ him _ ?”

“No, no, I know that people would want, um, him,” Henry, to his minor horror and greater surprise, felt a surge of pride at the thought. That  _ he _ was the one that got him. That got him into his study house, into his room, into his bed, undressing Henry, touching him, kissing him, and only him. Confidence blossomed. “And I can imagine that the same goes for those who would want him in their beds to appreciate them. That’s a word I’ll use for him, appreciative.”

“Oh?” Sammy at first bewildered by the sudden cocksure attitude Henry had taken, now engaged. “What do you mean by ‘appreciative’?”

“He pays attention to every little thing,” Henry grinned, still flushed. “Each twitch and gasp. And he revels in it. He’s curious about it, and it’s hot. It’s so hot. Joey has this way of doing things, methodical and embarrassed and cute, but when he gets into a swing, he really gets into it. He must have gotten me off three times that night. Every time I think about it, I get so turned on. I want him so bad, Sammy. I want to make him feel the way I do. He’s never gotten off, always refused when I offered, and damn, Sammy, he wants to wait, and that’s fine, but I want him to feel good, as good as he makes me feel.”

“What’s he waiting for?” Sammy asked, raising a brow. “Marriage?”

“Yes, actually.”

Sammy blinked.

“And…” Henry’s face began to lose its flush, his shoulders loosening and expression softening. “I want to marry him, too. He proposed to me - last time - and I refused him because I didn’t want to hurt him more with a false hope. It backfired, yeah, but that’s why this time I want to propose to him. To show that I want to fix what I’ve done. Make it a choice he decides.”

“That’s really great,” Sammy touched above his heart, tearing up slightly from his emotion surging. “Did you pick out a ring yet?”

“I got the gem,” Henry coughed, having inhaled his cigar too sharply, risking a second puff now that he was calm. “Custom cut sapphire. It’s going to be set in light gold. Might add some sockets for other gemstones, maybe ruby or emerald.”

“Ruby,” Sammy responded in hardly a moment. “Mr. Drew is a ruby person. The gems would match his eyes brilliantly. The emerald, not so much.”

“Yeah, that was what I was thinking,” Henry nodded. “I found a nice shape that I think would suit fine as well, a curved peak.”

“Sounds really sweet,” Sammy smiled, taking a drag of his own cigar. “Any ideas for when the date of no return would be?”

“I’m thinking some time in August,” was Henry’s slow coming answer. He gestured with his hands for emphasis as he continued. “Think about it - summer slipping away, fading into fall, the air still warm, the atmosphere tranquil. Good lighting, good air.”

“I believe you’re onto something with that,” Sammy solemnly said. “And Joey would look beautiful with a backdrop of turning leaves.”

“Joey would alway look beautiful,” Henry proclaimed. “He could be smothered in grime and gore and still be… my… gorgeous….”

Henry trailed off as he stared out the window at Johan, who was involved in conversation with Norman, smiling moonlight. Time felt like it was slowing as Joey laughed, eyes fluttering shut in the flowing motion of his mirth. 

“God, isn't he beautiful,” Henry murmured as Sammy waved a hand in front of his face to bring him back to earth. Sammy felt himself smile without trying to, and gazed to Joey as well. Johan’s features were not conventionally handsome, but the gestalt was, as was the way he carried himself. He may have been a gnarled man, with massive scars and elongated limbs and unappealing physiognomy, however, his heart was brighter than stars and his inner beauty shone through so much so that his outer unattractiveness was effectively smothered. Henry stood up, putting out his cigar. “Thank you for your time, Sammy.”

“Thank  _ you _ , Henry,” Sammy laughed. “This talk was most… interesting.”

“I know, aren’t I?” Henry joked, slipping out of the room. Seeing Joey was always something to brighten his day, and hugging him made it even better. He gave the lanky chicano a squeeze around the middle. “Hey, honeybee. What are you doing here?”

“Heard from Susie that she heard f-from Allison that you were here,” Joey answered, that smile making Henry’s heart flutter. “Wanted to pick up my boyfriend for a little time at the park. I know it’s n-not tuesday, but….”

“I’d love to go anywhere with you,” Henry replied, keeping his arm wrapped around Joey’s slim waist. “At any time. No matter what.”

***

Henry loved the feeling of Joey’s hand in his own. He loved the sensation of being next to him, he loved the flow of conversation. He loved the surprise of being pulled into the thick of trees, chasing after a moth whose pattern attracted Joey’s attention. He loved the way sunlight refracted off Johan’s skin, the way his eyes were molten lava in those heating rays. Everything about their time together was precious and Henry knew that he would treat him like royalty until his dying day, which should not be any time soon, especially thanks to the man who giggled as a hummingbird swirled around them, zipping by faster than the eye could truly watch. Joey pointed out the shapes of leaves and tree bark, the patterns of the world around them shining clearly, only for the right vision to discern. 

A game of cat and mouse grew between them when Joey slipped from Henry’s hand, and the resulting chase left Henry breathless and panting, Johan laughing and outpacing him still. Henry, recovering in the proper position of his hands on his knees, tried to pull in enough air, gasping and cussing at himself for being so out of shape. 

“Hey, don’t talk about my love like that,” Johan, manifesting in front of him, scolded. Hands came to his cheeks, pulling his face up swiftly, kissing him quick and soft. Henry moved after him as he pulled away, a magnet stuck to its pair. “You can be so sweet when you’re huffing and puffing, ha.”

Henry looked up at him to exhale a denial, but the adorable twinkle in Joey’s eye made his heart melt instead. So he tapped his arm, and wheezed, “Got you.”

“Oh? Have you now?” Joey laughed, and clamored atop him to be held in his arms. “Well, then, I’ve caught you, my darlin’.”

“Johan, you’re fantastic,” Henry told him, straight faced and meaning it in entirety. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Kiss me again?”

“You have to catch me for that!”

With that, Johan leapt away from Henry’s arms with a brilliant guffaw, making a dash for the wood. Henry gauged his own heart rate, Joey’s path, and what he could do to intercept him, and bolted, keeping low to the ground and keeping his pace even. He knew that if he lost Joey in the woods, he never would get that extra kiss he craved so desperately, and put on a burst of speed. 

He caught him against a tree, Joey tripping and bracing himself against its bark. From this new point of vantage, Henry could see Johan’s neck right by his lips, and he grinned - loving the way the cards seemed to play right into his hands. 

“Oh, babe, I’m liking what I’m seeing,” he purred behind Joey’s ear, in his hair. The words made him shiver, mouth opening and closing with an attempt to retort. Joey’s back pressed to Henry’s chest made him wonder if Joey could feel his heart pounding from the exercise and closeness, and when he felt Johan’s thrumming, he decided Joey could certainly feel his as well. “Our hearts are feeling something stirring.”

“I certainly am too,” Joey gasped out, Henry’s hands covering his and those broad fingers filling the gaps between his lissome ones, pressing him closer to the tree. “I suppose I owe you a kiss?”

“You absolutely do,” Henry smirked, turning Joey around smoothly. The smirk faded to be replaced by an awestruck smile as he took in the sight of Johan’s comely face, blushing and avoiding his eyes, the ghost of a laugh still flickering in those red irises. “What did I do to deserve you?”

“I don’t know,” Joey replied. “I don’t know what I did t-to deserve you, either.”

Henry’s heart swelled. He kissed Joey against that tree, long and loving.

* * *

Johan was looking over the animatronic, frowning at some detail or another. Henry smiled at the man’s concentration, trotting over. 

“Hey, Joey,” Henry called. Joey looked over to him, face brightening, a smile growing across his lips. Henry grinned in return, yet it faded as he looked over Joey’s shoulder. The world was thundering, there was lightning in his eyes, and the animatronic moved.

It moved, and slowly sat up, Joey’s back turned to the danger and Henry unable to call out as thunder rang in his eardrums, a waterfall in his head. 

Those empty eyes, those empty eyes of blood and night mixing in unholy union preying on the fear of all and any who dared look, they met Henry’s as its head turned. 

Its head turned, turned as slow as an unoiled cog in an old clock, creaking and turning when its power should have ended long ago.

It rose a finger.

Henry could not move.

It rose a finger, and pointed at Joey, Joey who seemed to be gliding in the air, mouth opening and closing soundlessly, stepping closer to Henry with concern in his eyes. 

It drew its lifted finger across its throat.

The meaning was clear, and Henry could not breathe.

An automaton like motion pulled the finger back to the body, and it twisted up to the grinning maw. 

If Henry had hoped that it was all merely an overly painful hallucination, that hope was dashed by that infernal  _ sound _ .

_ Shh _ .

Henry shook his head and stumbled out of the nightmarish vision, flailing and gasping in a breath at last. Johan was holding him, calling his name and snapping. Henry, wild eyed, looked around the room for the animatronic. 

It was exactly where it always was.

“It… I could’ve sworn it moved,” Henry rasped, shuddering at the… memory? Fear? Already it was fading away from his mind. “Can we get out of here?”

“It never moves, Henry,” Joey assured him, kissing his brow, yet helped him up and lead him out of the room in any regard. Henry leaned into the touch of Joey’s arm over his shoulder, glad for his support.

Lacie and Bertrum were in the latter’s office, going over blueprints and discussing what needed to be addressed. Lacie did a double take and remarked, “Henry, you look like shit. What happened to you?”

“He fainted,” Joey responded as Henry found his voice incapable of doing anything but wheeze. “In the animatronic development room. A v-vision, er, flashback, yes?”

“Yeah,” Henry numbly answered. “But… it didn’t connect to any memories.”

“None?” Bertrum raised a brow and lowered his cup of Irish coffee (certainly made by Shawn, if the rather large dollop of whipped cream was any indication). “Not at all?”

“No, not anything I’ve experienced,” Henry recalled. Joey and Bertrum exchanged concerned - no, worried - glances. “Is that a problem?”

“Tell us whenever you have another,” Johan instructed gently. “It’s not an echo if there’s n-no connection to a prior memory, then it’s… just a vision. Could mean anything.”

Henry swallowed, and sat heavily into the nearest chair. He breathed slowly to prevent himself from hyperventilating, though as soon as Joey’s hand covered his own, that fear vanished into thin air. Earthly eyes met blood moon ones, and Henry felt the world at peace. Everything was as it should, and Joey was there with him. There was no need to fear. He would protect Joey even as Joey would protect him, though Henry knew that it was his turn to step up to the plate and be there for Johan. He, to his surprise, wrapped him into a hug, and murmured his thanks into his ear. 

“You’re… welcome?” Johan whispered back, clearly befuddled by the animator’s gratitude. “But, pray tell, for what?”

“Being who you are,” Henry said, shrugging as he pulled away. “For everything.”

“Oh, you,” Joey rolled his eyes, which had an interesting shine to them, before turning his attention to Bertrum and Lacie, who had been watching the couple with a good deal of amusement. “How far along are the plans?”

“We can have the studio members and their families test the theme park in about…” Bertrum glanced at the plans before continuing, “Two weeks. Is that a good opening time?”

“Should be perfect,” Johan nodded. “Yes. Before I leave… that would be nice.”

Henry’s heart twinged. He did not forget, per say, about Johan needing to go to the army, but he would have liked to in the form of the man being able to stay. But if it would protect him somehow, even remotely, he would take it in a heartbeat. Seeing Johan’s face drop as he thought about the nature of his mission made Henry feel even worse. He hesitated, and took Joey’s hand, not looking at the man’s face. A slight squeeze assured him, allowing for some relaxation. 

He squeezed back.

It would all be okay.

Henry exhaled, slowly.

***

Joey and Henry leaned against one another, whispering and giggling. The kids were on the playground of the park, the two parents on a bench not ten feet away to keep an eye on them all. Stealing little kisses became a game, snatching one while avoiding the gaze of anyone else was a daring challenge, one that both enjoyed, though Joey was more cautious than his stout companion. Henry would have been glad to pull Johan to the ground despite the looks of others, but withheld himself for their safety. Still, they smiled, head on head, hand on hand, watching their children with little remarks passing between them with ease. 

Henry loved the domesticity of their life.

***

Teaching the junior animators was a difficult, but engaging task. Many thought they were competent, many thought that they had nothing to learn, and breaking them out of that habit was the first thing on Henry’s checklist. The majority of them were young, and few were just getting into true adulthood, and Henry enjoyed the practice of teaching them. He formed a bond with most, and was close with the rest. He knew that they would all back him no matter what he said, despite that not being his goal with training them. Still, they loved him and adored Joey just as much as he did. It felt good to see others vying for the chicano’s gaze and compliments, and knowing that he was the lucky guy that got both whenever he wanted. 

While those around were working, Henry noticed Johan watching through the doorway. Joey’s eyes came to rest on Henry, and he knew and loved that expression of wonderment. He finished the panel he had been working on, gave instructions to his subordinate Abby, and slipped over to the man, taking his hand and leading him to the break room.

Johan was silent as Henry tugged him along, though his heartbeat thrummed with life and his eyes flashed with thought and delight. His lips twitched, cheeks pulling at those slight muscles around his eyelids and ears. Henry kissed him on the stairs, their heights balanced by the steps between them. 

Joey’s shoulders sank downwards, relaxation gripping him, and he whispered against Henry’s lips, “You know I l-love you.”

“I know,” Henry smirked, kissing along to his ear to murmur, “I love you too, honey.”

“Today is monday, isn't it?” Joey questioned, giggling. Henry nodded. “And so tomorrow will be tuesday. Isn't that such a wonderful thought?”

“Hell yes it is,” Henry replied, following Joey down the remaining steps. At the bottom of the stairs, Joey paused, swaying a little, blinking and squinting. He found that he was having a hard time focusing on any one point, and his mind questioned the sense of deja vu that accompanied the dizziness sweeping over his body. Henry’s hand touched his, and it tingled with the contact. “Joey? Joey, doll, are you alright?”

Johan turned to look at Henry, attempting to open his mouth to reply, the motion slow and sluggish. There was no need for alarm, just an upcoming seizure. 

Henry caught Joey right before he hit the floor. The man’s stiffened body was heavier than usual from the tension and hydraulic pressure in his limbs, but still worryingly light. Henry immediately began counting and marking the time in his head, setting Johan onto the couch and making sure there was a pillow beneath his head.

Maybe they should not go to the pier tomorrow. Henry flitted around the rather empty room, the only other worker being Norman, who understood the situation and gave the distressed doctor the space that he needed. He also gave him a cup of tea, pulling out a chair for him and motioning that he sit. 

“You’re worried.”

“Gee, I wonder what gave that away.”

“Henry.”

“Sorry, Norman…” Henry looked at his shoes, warmth on his cheekbones. “I just… every time I think things are going great, there’s something that reminds me that there’s still danger and problems around. Like I had a sort of vision of the animatronic moving, and then Joey got a seizure right before I wanted to ask if he wanted to go to the pier with the kids tomorrow.”

“Why with the kids?” Norman inquired, forehead wrinkling with the raise of his eyebrows. “Don’t you two like to spend your dates as some alone time?”

“I want the kids to be there when I pop the question,” Henry mumbled. Norman stared at him, blinked, smiled, laughed, and clapped Henry’s shoulder, remarking, “Look at the pants on this guy!”

“Aw hush,” Henry rebutted. “It’s the right course of action.”

“Oh, so ‘popping the question’ and then popping something else?”

“Norman! What the hell!”

“Sorry, sorry, it was a too perfect lead in to not take it,” the taller grinned, leaning back. His eyes looked over Henry, as though inspecting him for something, finding it and nodding. “You really have stepped up to the plate, kid.”

“Only took me, oh, dying,” Henry replied with the total nonchalance of a man who looked God in the eyes and asked for a soda, in other words, sheepish and not calm in the slightest. The two men looked over at Joey, who was awakening with a groan, rubbing his eyes and moving out his sore appendages. Henry appeared at his side with an ironic cartoonish speed, concernedly looking him over and checking his pulse and temperature, making Joey laugh and attempt to brush him off. “No no, I am a doctor, and I will check your bloody vitals to make sure you are  _ healthy. _ Now sit still.” 

Henry checked over Joey once more, declaring him fine when a hand pushed against his back and he found himself in Johan’s arms. He had hardly noticed the soft static of a film reel turning over the roaring of his heartbeat in his ears. That same hand from before gently bumped the back of his head up and forward, and then-

Johan stared at Henry in their awkward kiss, but once his brain processed the situation, his body loosened and his eyes fluttered shut in bliss. Henry had not expected him to respond well to their accidental intimacy, and the fact he did made him kiss him- more properly, that is. Johan’s thin arms wrapped around Heny’s middle, Henry cupping his face and pulling him closer. Without either escalating the situation, they found the situation escalated, and discovered the other to be irresistible to break apart from, tangled together on the break room couch and humming with satisfaction. 

“Hey, Mr. DreOH- Um.” Daniel stared at his mentor and the animator, cheeks flushing dark as soon as he realized what they had been engaged in moments prior to and while he had entered the pub room. Norman watched the awkward exchange from where he sat with the camera rolling, smiling to himself at the antics. “Should I come find you some other time…?”

“Uh,” Joey answered, hyper aware of exactly how and where Henry’s body was touching his, acutely sensitive to the tingling of his lips that were certainly more noticeable than usual from little bites and the saliva on them. He ducked his head in fluster, and Henry managed to answer for him, his voice far steadier than Joey could have achieved, “Yeah, that might be a good idea.”

“Isn’t your apartment… like, right upstairs?” Buddy asked, and blushed even more, spinning around on his heel (a move definitely learned from Joey) to rush away up the break room stairs. “Okay bye I’ll see you later sorry for interrupting-”

“He does have a point,” Henry remarked, dropping his voice to a purr in Joey’s ears. “Want to take it?”

“I… ah, um,” Johan stuttered, Henry kissing along the curve of his jawbone from his ear back to his lips, settling the matter without the need for words, but Joey knew the words were needed for them. “Yes.”

They somehow made it to the breakroom lift, using it instead of the stairs for the sake of energy, unable to keep their hands away, palms locked together and fingers intertwined like ivy on a marble column, beautiful in its unnaturally natural way. Norman sighed happily as they left the frame, ending the reel and adjusting it to remove it from the projector. He would give it to them as an engagement present, among other things and photographs. 

Managing to keep their distance all the way up to the final floor, Henry found it impossible to  _ not _ push Joey against the door, grabbing the stepping stool with a twist of his ankle, rising up to Joey’s level. Eyes met now that they were even, the heated rush abating enough to allow Henry to feel the adoration seeping through them both. He leaned in to Johan’s lips slowly, those lips opening with air flowing in and out, sealed with their touch.

Henry felt a moan break out of his mouth, reciprocated by a hum from Joey. 

Their eyes met, and they smiled, tears bursting from joy in their eyes, and then pressed closer, as if they could form one being out of the sheer intensity of their happiness and love.

“I love you,” it was impossible to tell who said it first, but they continued, and they echoed it over and over, Johan’s knees going weak and sinking them to the floor, but did they care? How could they? Not when they were finally there, finally reaching the little secret of life, the love that drives us to write songs and books and sing them with our voices, hands, and bodies. 

They somehow ended up in their room, curled together and holding one another, galaxies of their own gravitational pull, stars dancing in eyes and planets in limbs. 

Henry’s heart seemed to swell with every one of Joey’s breaths, and Joey thought he would implode into melodies of joy and odes to life. Henry smiled as Johan cuddled to his chest, grinning that gorgeous sheepish smile, and those red eyes like caricatures of hearts, wide, soft, and loving. 

“What did I do to deserve you,” Henry murmured, scooting down on the bed to be face to face with his soon to be fiance. “What the hell did I do so good to deserve you. I don’t think I’ve ever done anything to deserve you, but here we are. Do you know what I did?”

“You do your best every day,” Joey responded, and to that Henry had no opposition. He trailed his hands up to Johan’s cheeks, kissing them and his neck. “You’re you. Ah… ah… that feels nice.”

“Does it now?” Henry asked with a cheeky smile, nibbling along the bone of Johan’s neck, detensing the muscle with gentle kisses. “Gosh, you’re so stressed. Do you want a back rub? How long have you been working today?”

“Mmm, since yesterday, if I’m being honest,” Johan admitted. “No backrub. J-Just… this. This is good. Holy hell, this is good - what on earth are you doing with your hands, oh hell, that’s good.”

Henry smirked as he continued to make patterns of pressure with his fingertips all over Joey’s body, absolutely loving how with each and every touch the man grew more and more relaxed. “Just a little doctor’s touch, babe. You know how it is.”

“Whoever the hell came up with the term ‘making love’ has never had anything like this,” Joey exhaled, neck leaning back with the waves of rapture soaking into his nerves. “Henry, this is making  _ me _ love you all the more - is this some sort of parlor trick of yours?”

“You could put it that way,” Henry chuckled, Johan pressing himself closer as Henry’s hands moved along his body. “It only works on you, though, because it’s only for you, Joey. I know all of you, I’d say inside and out, but we both know that’s only a half truth.”

“Oh, hush Henry,” Johan giggled, blushing with the implication. “You know that you know me inside - merely not in that regard.”

“Well, damn, I’d love to whenever you’d want,” Henry responded smoother than butter melting on a hot skillet, which was also similar to Joey’s reaction to his words. Henry smiled, tracing patterns still. “So, I was thinking….”

“Dangerous,” Joey quipped, his eyes twinkling with the joke. He kissed Henry’s jaw, cuddling into the crook of his shoulder. “And?”

“Let’s go to the pier with the kids,” Henry managed to offer, struggling to keep his composure behind his cool and collected facade. “Tomorrow. For date day.” 

“That sounds like a wonderful idea,” Joey remarked, and Henry mentally congratulated himself and gave himself a reward of a kiss from Johan, long and slow. “An all day trip?”

“If you want it to be one,” Henry replied. Joey nodded against his chest. “I love you.”

“Mmm, I love you too,” Joey hummed. Henry felt his heart flutter all over again. “I love you.”

“I love you.”

They stayed together in each other’s arms, Henry pointedly not looking at the third drawer. 

* * *

Henry’s hand was settled in Joey’s, the sea air flowing through their hair. Johan was smiling and enjoying the view. The kids were looking around in awe, having never seen the pier before, spotting and waving at the fishing and transport boats. Bendy was gathering up shells he found and putting them onto his horns, Linda was helping him hold his favorites, Alice and Boris were sharing a small turtle they found, Charley and Edgar had been running around to explore every nook and cranny they could find, and Barley’s eyes were wide with wonderment about every minute detail around the pier and its facets. Henry could see the gears in Joey’s mind turn, able to tell that he was planning on seeing if Barley would want to take boating or fishing lessons. 

Henry’s pocket felt unusually heavy to him, and his heart seemed to thunder loud and clear, the pulse hammering in his ears. Joey had suffered another seizure earlier, in the wee hours of the morning, but it was nothing that would bother the tall man, brushing it off with a cup of sweet tea and a kiss. Henry still worried, naturally, but he trusted that Joey would be safe nonetheless. Henry gave Johan’s hand a squeeze, and Johan looked down to him, the sunshine shimmering through his hair and reflecting off his visage, glasses, and scars, making Henry go breathless, stunned by his sheer beauty.

The sun was not setting yet, and Henry’s tongue was slow with those meaningful words that he planned to say when it did, their end destination merely the final few planks of the long wooden path into the ocean. 

The sky came from the tips of Joey’s hair, and the sun shone from Henry’s, and the bright twinkling stars that were their children danced around them. The scene was picturesque, beautiful in its simplicity, and kind in its genteel tranquility. Henry hoped that the cameras that Shawn, Wally, and Norman helped him rig would work right, and he settled himself with the knowledge that even if they would not, he could always pause and capture the moment forevermore. The day passed with laughter and joy, with soft touches and sweet kisses. 

It was perfect. As close to it as they could get, and Henry was burning with anticipation. 

Joey finished a churro that he had gotten (Henry already devoured his pretzel), and Henry fell into the temptation to pull him to his lips to kiss off the remaining sugar. 

The day had been wonderful, Henry reminisced, his thumb stroking over the back of Joey’s hand. Johan laughed quietly, snatching the stout animator’s attention. 

“Huh?”

“What’s your little agenda, Henry?” Joey asked, his smile bright. Henry paled suddenly, his mouth turning into a nigh comical frown as he tried to deny everything. “Come now, you’ve been going into your little ‘my scheme is coming along perfectly’ b-bubble of thought. So, what have you got planned?”

Henry zipped his mouth with two fingers, miming throwing away a key. Joey rose a brow, and asked in a low tone, “Is it something you’ve been  _ desiring? _ Were the kids coming a little farce?”

“Er, what, no!” Henry hastily defended, though his stomach lurched. Joey noticed his fluster, and snuck a hand down his chest, leaning over him as though he were disporting, but the broad palm and splayed fingers were clear teases. “J-Jo, not now….”

“Oh, so it really isn't your goal,” Joey noted, seeming surprised. He looked off to the water, blushing slightly. “I had assumed due to… your actions as of late. Distracted and… well, rubbernecking.”

“Have I been?” Henry, bewildered, inquired, but acknowledged his statement’s truth after thinking about it for a moment. “Well… I guess that my body is trying to compensate for the lack of… what you’re talking about.”

“Do you want t-to… um, schedule a  _ meeting?” _ Johan fumbled, his blush turning all the more intense. “We can even do something tonight if you’d like to.”

“If you’re offering and if you’re comfortable,” Henry began slowly, his heart thundering all the louder. The day kept getting better and better, all the more wonderfully surprising. Joey nodded, and Henry melted, taking the man by his tie and pulling him to his lips. “Are you sure you’d want to?”

“Yes,” Johan replied softly, kissing Henry’s nose with a slightly nervous smile. “I do believe I am… healing from many of the wrongs done onto me, a bit at a time.”

“In the fact that you’re noting them as wrong, yeah, I’d agree with that,” Henry grinned, proud of him. It made his heart slam even harder from all the love and adoration that embedded itself within the muscle’s valves and compartments. “So… ‘something tonight’? Is there anything in particular you would have in mind, Mr. No Fornication?”

“Henry,” Johan chided, and kissed the other’s hand, opening his lips to kiss around his knuckles, eyes closed for a moment, opening slowly to meet Henry’s. Henry felt his face heat up as he understood Joey’s meaning. “Does that sound like a g-good idea?”

“Sounds…” Henry swallowed roughly, “Sounds great.”

Joey only smiled. 

The kids were starting to get tired, and congregated by Joey and Henry.

The sun was setting, the orange rays expounding over the waves and splaying out in reds and yellows, hued with pinks and indigos. 

Henry looked at Joey.

The entire preamble he had made in his mind vanished.

There was nothing to say.

Only the action to do.

He knelt, silently, as though tying his shoe, the rest of the family moving on without. Henry prepared himself mentally, pulling out the ring and remaining knelt, his teal eyes trained on those eight backs. Bendy, noticing his absence, turned around, and froze, a smile growing across his face, wide and brilliant. Alice and Boris followed his gaze, the angel gasping and the wolf meeting Bendy’s eyes, the both grinning like devils. Edgar squeaked, Barley and Charley exchanged glances, and Linda laughed. 

Joey turned around when he finally realized.

Henry was silhouetted by the sun setting behind him, the rays beaming onto Johan, and Henry was breathless all over again. Joey came to him, steps slow and mindful.

“Henry… is this…?” 

“Will you?”

A smile broke across Joey’s face, eyes squinting and tears leaking from them. He covered his mouth, trembling with emotion. He pulled a chain out from the inside of his shirt, revealing a ring kept close to his heart. Henry felt himself begin to cry as well. 

The kids broke out into cheering, especially when Henry gave Johan the personalized ring and accepted the one Joey had made for him. 

Their eyes met again, and Joey wrapped Henry into a hug, crying, laughing and spinning him around. When he set him down, Henry cupped his cheeks, and brought him into a kiss. 

“Henry, Henry, I… I love you,” Johan wept, wiping his eyes, then wiping his own. His breath was catching in his lungs, it was flowing and it was sharp and strong, stinging at his throat and eyes. 

“And I love you, Johan Icarus,” Henry responded, and kissed him again. “So much.”

“When did you… decide?” 

“While you were bringing me back.” 

“I l-love you….”

“I love you, too. Time to go home?”

“But I am home,” Joey whispered, leaning close to his lips once more. “You are home.”

They stayed in their close embrace for a long time, until the last wistful peal of the gulls died down.

***

The ride home was easy and difficult at the same time. Henry kept one hand on the wheel and the other entwined with Joey’s. They stole kisses whenever there was a red light, mostly quiet with the absurd amount of surprise. Their dinner was prepared by Bertrum and Allison whilst they were not at home, and it was a delightful dinner, full of smiles and laughter, Joey catching Henry admiring his ring and how the colors complimented their beings, and how their rings seemed to match despite their clear differences. Just like themselves. 

After setting the kids to sleep, Henry felt Joey’s hands slipped under his sweater. He turned his head to have his lips captured by those he adored. They swayed down the hall in a strange grapevine gait, revelling in their closeness. 

“Bedroom?” He asked when they broke apart. Joey nodded, and they slipped down the hall together. 

***

Henry moaned as Joey’s nails racked over his sides, soothed by the smooth palms beneath. Everything was hot and cold and felt so good. Their lips locked, Henry loving how Johan panted, allowing the animator access to his mouth, his delicious mouth. Their bodies slid together and clung like puzzle pieces, whispering loves and names. Henry’s clothes were folded and set onto the side table alongside most of Joey’s, their glasses atop the fabrics. Their rings glinted in the moonlight, contrasted by each other’s skin, the gems sparkling and reminding them of their new, even closer, bond. 

Joey’s lips kissed down onto Henry’s chin, wet kisses until he swallowed, then drier ones as he kissed further down, down Henry’s chest and to the skin that had been given an impression from the clothing that had earlier restricted it. Joey kissed along the line that was pressed in by his belt, Henry smiling and running his hands through Joey’s hair. 

“That’s a good fella,” he encouraged, enjoying the view. Joey looked up at him with flashing, yet somehow innocuous eyes, and Henry loved it all the more. “Are you going to get on with the show, pretty boy?”

“If you’d like me to, sir,” Johan smoothly replied, causing Henry to smile wider, gently pushing his head down slightly with the tips of his fingers, the turquoise set in his ring flickering as the light danced over it. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Henry smirked and leaned further back as Joey continued to kiss his skin, his hips and sides, paying equal attention to both left and right. The only drawback for Henry was the desire to touch more of Johan, which was held back by their distance. This was ameliorated by Joey’s hand reaching up to be taken by Henry’s, and he loved the way the sapphire matched Johan’s hair. Being that Henry was stripped, Johan was blushing from the thought of that alone, and his heat emanated onto Henry, the sensation warm and satisfying. 

“Damn, Joey,” Henry groaned, his face feeling a thousand degrees, head leaning back as Johan worked him under his spell. “Damn, you’re so good.”

Johan could only hum as he continued to kiss anywhere he could, anywhere but where Henry really wanted - but Henry could wait, and he loved to. Every moment they spent together, every small kiss and light touch meant the world to them both. 

Henry, when he could take the slow, even pace no longer, pulled Joey up to his lips, nipping and whispering comments and compliments of how much he loved him, of how much he loved what he did and how he did it. After some quiet discussion, Joey kissed back down his chest, hands on either side of Henry’s hips, and did as Henry requested.

Henry was in nirvana, moaning and whispering Joey’s name with fervency. Every motion brought more and more waves of pleasure. Until his hips moved.

“W-wait, I-”

Joey looked at Henry with wide eyes, mouth open, hesitant and worried. Henry stared back.

Henry inhaled sharply, finding his voice, and it came out as a whisper.

“Can we stop?”

“Of course,” Joey answered, getting up from his bowed spot, moving to be on Henry’s left, sliding over to him, putting on his glasses and handing to Henry his own pair. “Of course we can. Is… is something the matter? Did I do something wrong?”

“No, no, Joey, it wasn’t you,” Henry assured him, kissing his lips softly. “It’s me. I just. Remembered… it. Kinda funny since tonight…” he tapped a finger to Joey’s ring, “you know.”

“Ah,” Johan blinked. He kissed Henry back. “Is there somethin’ I can do to help with that?”

“Kiss me,” Henry murmured. “It never did. I wouldn’t let it. Not even drunk.”

“I will gladly do what you request,” Johan responded, and did so, soft and slow. It morphed gradually into something more heated, the remnants of their energy exerting itself. Henry ended up on Joey’s thighs, arms over his shoulders, the faint taste of himself in Johan’s mouth a strangely satisfying bitterness, though not enough as he handed him a water bottle, which he gladly accepted, then passed back to Henry. Once they were refreshed, they continued their kissing, though at a more gentle pace.

“You know,” Henry panted between dives. “I think I’m liking the direction this went.”

“So just making out?” Johan giggled, silenced by Henry coming back to his lips. When he pulled away, Joey found himself breathless, and admitted, “Uh, um. Yeah. This is g-good.”

“Not as good as you,” Henry rumbled, making Joey shiver. “You’re a goddamn devil of heaven.”

“I’m sure the marks on my skin say otherwise,” Joey whispered. Henry’s eyes met his, and they stared at each other, both quiet. Johan’s hands slowly hooked under the rim of his shirt, and pulled it up slowly, Henry’s eyes widening.

“Wait, Joey, are you sure you want to do this?” Henry asked, stunned. He was answered by Johan fully removing his shirt, leaving Henry to gawk at the skin hidden for so long beneath. Marvelling at the soft suppleness of the muscle that twitched and seemed poised with a burning energy, Henry’s eyes almost unwillingly raked over the now exposed body. “Hell, Johan… you’re gorgeous. I always felt that you were slim with lean muscle, but… damn, you’re so… so pretty. Look at you. Look at you!”

“It’s nothin’ really,” Joey hastily backtracked, stopping when Henry’s hands covered his, reminded of something he wanted to do for a long, long time. “Henry…?”

“Show me,” Henry whispered, low and peaceful. “Turn around, Joey, let me love all your marks, all those testimonies of strength. Please turn around and let me overwrite that nothing. You’re everything to me. I want you, and I want you to be happy. Please let me kiss your back, every inch.”

“Who am I to d-deny an angel?” Joey breathed. Henry swooped to his lips, kissing him, and kissed him, and held him, and kissed him. Eventually, Joey, blushing shamefully and not meeting Henry’s eyes, turned around, and Henry trailed his fingers over every shimmering scar. His lips drew over each one, his tongue over deeper gouges to gauge their size and to make Joey feel through the thick scar tissue. Johan shuddered and murmured. “Carajo.”

“You ok there, babe?” Henry murmured in question. Johan nodded. “Words, please.”

“Y-yeah,” Joey gasped. He twisted and pulled Henry into a kiss. “Keep going.”

Henry complied, making sure that he kissed each and every centimeter of skin on the other’s back. Johan sobbed, not of sadness, but of emotion, and Henry swiftly slid over to the other side of the bed to pick up his face. Tears tracked down his cheeks, and Henry kissed them away. 

“It’s all okay, honey,” Henry assured him. “We’re safe, thanks to you. Thank you. I love you. You’re so beautiful, and handsome, and I love you, so much. I love everything about you, all your little ticks and anything that you don’t like, I love. I love you. All of you, I love. Every scar, every inch, and thank god there are so many of those to love.”

“I-” Joey drew in a shuddering breath. His lips twitched, emotions fighting emotions. “I….”

“Before you say anything bad about my fiance, first hear out my argument,” Henry warned, and pulled Joey to his lips. They broke apart after what felt like years. “I hope that settles the matter, pal.”

“Oh,” Johan remarked, laying back on the bed slowly, as though in a daze. “I… I admit you have a point. But is it really enough?”

“I have plenty more to say on it, if it was not,” Henry replied, and moved back to Joey’s lips. Henry wondered how he managed to be so lucky, how he managed to get this. He moved away, looking upon Johan’s flushed face, the beauty of his closed eyes with pink lenses reflecting off white moonlight, and he fell in love all over again when Joey opened those eyes, those unique red eyes. 

He could have spent forever like that. 

***

Joey kissed the kid’s foreheads and then Henry;s lips before he strapped on his helmet. Henry handed him the duffel bag of his belongings, his heart twanging painfully. 

“Stay safe, okay?” he murmured, a tone of begging in his voice. Johan laughed, the sound reverberating from the shell around his head, and replied, “I certainly will. This ain’t my f-first army rodeo, you know.” 

“I know, I know,” Henry sighed, scooping up Alice, who put a sticker of herself on Joey’s helmet. Henry smiled at the sight of it. “What’s that for, sweetie?”

“For luck!”she explained. Barley smashed a bottle on the ground, “And that was also for luck.”

“Well, thank you both,” Joey remarked. “I’m gonna need all the luck I can get. Now… au revoir. I’ll be home sooner than you all would know it.”

With a wave, he started the engine of his motorbike, and drove before they could see the tears tracking down his cheeks from having to leave home. 

***

“Do I know you?” E. Misner asked his tall bunkmate. He thought he would be able to remember someone with such a high stature. “I’m Edward James, but my friends call me Hessiah.”

“Which am I to call you?” J. Ramirez asked, looking at him from the corner of his eye. “I’m Joey.”

“Nice to… meet you?” Hessiah smiled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I could’ve sworn we’ve met. Maybe in another life.”

“You don’t even know.”


	3. Shade

Joey danced alone to music only he heard. It was a beautiful, flowing dance, even though the small space of the stockroom hardly lent itself to any motion. Sometimes some of the others on the submarine would find their voices and sing for the man’s dance, and some would dance with him. Joey had a brilliant smile and a soft sonorous voice, thus it was a delight to fall into rhythm with. Getting him to laugh became a challenge upon deck, from taping a smiley face to his radar to sending him a poem though morse code. The captain had taken a liking to him and tried to get him to fall for the ocean, but Joey told him, “S-sir, if I wanted to be in the water, I would t-turn into a fish.”

Joey also fell into daydreams while looking at a masterfully crafted sapphire ring on his left hand. Whilst in his reverie, he would hum and smile, a wistful expression of surprise and joy crossing over his visage. He was often teased as the resident lover boy, as the sweetheart, the gentle giant who lent an ear to everyone. He was beloved by nearly everyone, and had spoken quietly with those who had taken a dislike to him, and eased it to a courteous acceptance. That further impressed on Misner that they certainly had met before, though he could not fathom when that could have been. 

But when? The question made his head spin. He certainly would have remembered someone like Joey. Who would forget him? How could anyone?

Hessiah would often stay up in his bed beneath Johan’s while reading, listening as the man’s breathing shifted through his sleep, wondering when they could have met. Or where, for that matter. 

It got to a point where he thought, perhaps they were soulmates or had known each other in a previous life, that they were somehow innately connected. Afterall, why else would he be so attuned to the fine man?

He decided, one day, to see what Joey thought about such a notion, via waylaying him as he worked in stocking food and taking a list of what was used. Making sure that he looked presentable, he strutted into the room. 

“So, are you going anywhere this weekend?” Hessiah inquired genially, smiling his most charming grin and leaning so that he could see Joey’s face. Johan, glancing up, about to reply, did a double take, mouth opening and a bemused, nearly delighted, confusion becoming his expression. “What is it?”

“Why is your shirt half undone?” Joey asked, slightly red, but clearly trying not to laugh. “And you know as w-well as anyone on this hell boat that no one’s going anywhere. Hess, are you- are you-”

Joey, so surprised by the whole of the matter, felt himself laugh slightly, and it turned into peals of guffaws. Hessiah patiently waited for him to calm down.

“Yes, I am hitting on you,” he answered. Joey responded by wheezing and laughing even harder, begging apologies even as he wept from mirth. “Is there a problem with that?”

“N-not particularly, no, aside from the fact that I am betrothed,” Joey reminded, eyes flicking to the sapphire ring on his hand. “As well as the fact, well, you hardly showed such interest in me before….”

“Come on, Joey, one night,” Hessiah gave his most charming smile. Johan, smiling apologetically, shook his head gently. James took his hands into his own. “Joey, I feel like I’ve met you before, and I know that you felt something about that too. Maybe we simply both forgot our time together, and I’d wanna find that out.”

“Edward…” Joey’s voice had an edge of warning to it, though soft. Hessiah replied by pulling Joey into an embrace, startling the tall man. “Wh-”

“You’re one of the kindest and sweetest people I’ve ever met, and I…” Hessiah paused, and put his lips to Joey’s ear to whisper, “I think we’re soulmates.”

“Edward James,” Joey spoke slowly, pulling himself out of the man’s arms. “You’re the l-last person I’d expect t-to remember time jumps, but the first person I should have. Come up top with me, and I’ll explain it away.”

Hessiah listened. At first he laughed at the notion, bewildered out of belief. Joey then bid him to close his eyes, and showed him the bright green that encircled them. 

He stopped laughing then. 

The more Joey spoke, of a world brought to ruin by a single man tearing himself from the very fabric of their universe, of a time forgotten because there was naught but two souls to remember it, the less fantasmical it became, yet all the more tragic. 

There was no magic to be seen when he described a blight that feasted upon man’s flesh, a black darkness encompassing all that breathed, all that moved, even on a molecular level, even ravaging the desolate crater that had been Chicago, contaminating oceans with its own foul liquid. 

What triumph is one that costs the whole of humanity, and strips a man bare of all that he knew and did not know he needed? What glory is there in loneliness?

Joey told him of the previous time he had spent on the very ship beneath them. He told him of losing the man he loved in far too many ways with a sad face and tearing eyes, yet strong voice, rising and falling in tone like the tide surrounding them. He told him of his own mutilated body, of the trials he forced his way through in order to bring him back. 

Had he not felt the time shift around him, had he not watched Joey move faster than light, Hessiah would not have believed it. But he saw it, and he realized the man was right. Johan, satisfied that he would no longer accost him with frivolous ideas, gave him a kiss on the cheek and retired to bed, exhausted from the remembrance of the past that clutched at his ankles so strongly. 

Hessiah, finally finding the funny side of the matter, chuckled, played some checkers with another crewmate, and slipped into his bunk, still feeling that sense of amusement that had stuck with him like a cocoon of sweet honey since Joey smiled incredulously at him while he was a quarter stripped, yet his sleep was troubled by the shifting of the man in the bunk above him.

He shook Joey awake, and Johan looked at him with red eyes blinking away night terrors.

“Can we still cuddle?” Hessiah asked with a light hearted, though hopeful, wink. Johan laughed that crudely delicate laugh, opening his blanket to allow the broader within. Silently, secretly, James prayed for the man’s future and love. He wished with all his heart for the best to be bestowed onto him; as had he not been through enough already? He felt himself dozing, and obliged himself into muttering into the other’s shoulder, “You’re the best, Joey.”

“I wish I knew,” the other mumbled in a sigh that did not seem to have an end, and James did not find out what he meant by that for many years. 

***

After that little hilarious hiccough, there were no problems, neither between them nor anyone, aside two seizures that had passed as a sneeze might. 

There were no problems at all until a month passed. 

When Joey woke up the whole submarine screaming and thrashing, not a soul stepped too close for fear of getting clocked in the face or kicked in the chest. Johan was howling to high heaven, and it might have been a stupid descision, but Hessiah could not remember if one should wake up someone in a nightmare or let it pass, and he leapt onto Joey, pinning him with one hand and patting his face with the other. He found himself thrown to the floor, stunned as lights passed through his eyes, and Joey’s voice broke in a scream, tapering into rough sobs. 

“Please, no, no, no,” the man rasped, shaking, and a gulping noise swallowed down another shriek. “No, no, no….”

Hessiah managed to push himself off the floor and got a cup of water.

Speaking quietly with other shipmates, some confessed they had noticed Joey having turbulent dreams, others mentioned they had seen him easily frightened, though nothing ever like this. Finally, they succeeded to wake him with a splash from the water, and the gasps the man made twisted at heart strings. Joey, shaking and sobbing, refused to be touched by anyone, flinching away and whimpering at the slightest bit of contact. When the tremors refused to go away even after he was up and about, they all knew something was the matter. When they remained even two days later, Joey could not hide that something was wrong any longer. The captain acknowledged that something needed to be done, as Joey’s shivering was worrisome enough, as was the extremely cold temperature Hessiah reported. 

“Like a corpse,” he had said grimly, shuddering at the thought. “Can we wire for a medic or doctor?”

Pinging out for a doctor yielded a single result, though it took a day of conference to decide whether to accept the offer or not. Looking at Johan shivering settled the matter. Both submarines steered toward one another cautiously, white flags of peace waving in the wind. The two captains talked genially, and the german man introduced Dr. Fontaine. Soon he was beside Johan’s bed, and he gently shook him awake.

“Hello, my name is Dr. Fontaine,” he said, voice thick with an accent. He paused to consider his next words, being that the previous were relatively the same in both languages and thus easier to say. Giving up, he continued on. “I am here because you not have doctor on ship. Now-”

He was stopped by Johan holding up a hand.

“Quälen Sie sich nicht,” Johan remarked, smiling slightly. “Ich spreche Deutsch.”

“Na dann,” Dr. Fontaine, surprised, replied. “Ist es in Ordnung, wenn ich Sie erst einmal durchchecke?”

“Ja.”

The doctor began checking Johan’s vitals, clucking at his weight and marveling at his height, laughingly asking how the man managed to get through doors at all. However, when Dr. Fontaine checked Joey’s temperature, he frowned as he looked at the red line, and pulled out a different thermometer only to get the same reading.

“Es scheint, dass Sie unterkühlt sind,” he told Joey, rubbing his temple. Johan groaned, sinking on his bed, “Schon wieder?"

“Wie oft hatten Sie es zuvor?” Dr. Fontaine shot back with a cocked brow. Johan blushed, and Fontaine prompted him to go on. “Hm?”

“Vier oder fünf Mal,” Joey mumbled, not looking at the doctor. “Vielleicht sechs Mal….”

“Essen Sie genug?” Dr. Fontaine asked, preparing a cross examination to search for possible reasons for the man’s illness.

“Ja.”

“Schlafen Sie ausreichend?” 

“Ein bisschen.”

“Haben Sie etwas Traumatisches durchlebt?”

“Ja, einiges.”

“Ich empfehle Ihnen dringend, so schnell wie möglich nach Hause zurückzukehren,” Fontaine stated, turning to go. “Ich werde Ihren Captain informieren.”

“Herzlichen Dank,” Johan murmured, and the doctor glanced back and smiled thoughtfully, replying, “Bitte. Gute Besserung, und guten Abend.”

Shortly after the man left, Johan was notified that he would be returning home in a week’s time. 

***

Henry tossed aside the paper with disgust. He was sick of hearing about war, and wanted to know nothing about where the government planned on testing more of their mushroom bombs; there was proof enough to how well it worked. Knowing that the sites listed were farces in any case did not help any matter whatsoever. Nuclear power was no answer, in Henry’s eyes - it was a curse. Nothing good would come of them. Having treated patients from testing regions, he felt naught but sadness and a vengeful spirit. To see the deadly radiation cripple those innocents and their children always brought to the doctor a sense of the depth to man’s cruelty, deep, vast, and protective of none but one’s self. 

Medically, the academic field advanced with leaps and bounds through this new technology, and Henry took it as a sign to battle against this impending horror of twisted minds and bodies through his studies, oft adding cancerous patients to his list to find the best methods of healing, to stop the cellular reproduction that nigh all beings feel deep within, to reverse the command wrought upon all to be fruitful and multiply. It was no easy task, and ended in more failure than success, but those successes brought new insight and new methods to protect the populace of earth. 

His clientele had increased as Henry had become more and more known as the most skillful surgeon on the east coast, ranging from a common loafer to members of the supreme court, all of whom Henry treated with the same level of respect and kindness, having learnt the true meaning of equality from his fiance. He charged everyone what they each offered, some paying nothing, some paying quite handsomely, and with time, Henry had passed his final examination by the board, and created his own practice closer to the studio, which greatly helped with the children that came for treatment. 

His own kids brought an intimate pleasure that he had never truly felt before, yet now that chasing material wealth and false happiness were no longer things on his mind, he could sense it resonate in his very soul. He felt it whenever he saw Linda and Marina laughing, whenever he saw Alice creating a song with Boris, whenever he saw Barley learning how to cast a reel, whenever he saw his children happy, he felt their happiness burst inside himself like a thunderbolt to his arm, jostling and spreading joyously from tip to tip. It was dampened by Joey’s absence, certainly, but the feeling was there nonetheless and surprised him all the more. 

Henry was returning to the studio after a night of study and medical procedures, glad the children were at school, when a sensation of exhaustion came upon him. It was not the exhaustion of empty work, but an earned tiredness, and after instructing Abby, he slipped up the stairs to the apartment. 

He thought he smelt the sea as he slipped into their room, and, without opening his eyes, took off his sweater and tossed himself onto the bed. 

Slim arms wrapped around him. 

Henry’s eyes shot open, and he found himself looking at Joey, and in the next moment he had situated himself in the man’s lap, hugging around his chest and grinning as if his very visage had been hexed into the broad beam. 

“I missed you terribly,” Joey whispered, face buried in Henry’s locks, inhaling the dizzying mix of berries and sterile aftershave. “You were constantly on my m-mind.”

“As you were on mine, and as I missed you,” Henry replied, “But, sweetheart, why are you home so quick? Not that I have any objections whatsoever, just surprised.”

“Hypothermia seems to refuse to let me go,” Johan answered. Henry frowned, and touched Johan’s brow with three fingers. Joey kissed his palm. “I feel quite f-fine. A bit shaken up, as I had a few seizures on board, though I d-doubt it is anything that some family time and tranquility can’t fix.”

“How many is ‘a few?’” Henry inquired. Joey thought for a moment, and responded, “I believe three or four times.”

“Better than six, far worse than none,” Henry muttered, tightening his arms around him. “I worry about you, Joey.”

Johan lifted Henry’s chin, smiled at him, and kissed him gently.

***

Joey knelt with open arms as the kids ran off the bus towards him, whooping and cheering. Once they were all upon him, scooping them up was no problem for the tall man, spinning around with the children shrieking in delight. He kissed each of their heads as he lowered them to the ground, hugging them again once their footing was reestablished. Henry leaned in the doorway, loving the way that Joey treated them like small people, of equal status to himself. The chicano wept a bit in happiness, glad to be home, grateful for his children. He leaned over and ruffled Linda’s hair, inquiring how she had been as of late, discussing poetry with Alice, giving Bendy a seashell, and handed over to Barley a signed picture of his crew in front of their submarine. 

They had dinner outside on the roof of the studio, springtime slowly inching its way into summer. Henry and Joey went over their plan for how Henry was to go to war and return with the twins, making sure with Hackenbush that the possibility was available to them. Upon confirmation, they no longer worried for it in the slightest, putting it out of mind. 

Joey felt eyes on him as he worked in his garden, and turned around to see Henry staring at him with soft eyes, leaning against the cherry tree with the last of the blossoms drifting down. Johan had smiled at him, waving him off with a snort. Henry mimed swooning, touching towards his heart, and slipped over through the roses to near his affianced darling, offering him a cherry blossom. 

“What’s this f-for?” he asked with twinkling eyes, though he put it into his hair. 

Shrugging with a light grin, Henry answered him easily, “The cherries aren’t ripe yet, doll. But they could be….”

“My ass ain’t ripe yet,” Joey retorted, then paused, brow furrowing as he tried to understand why he had spoken at all. His lips pursed at Henry’s barely restrained smirk and pinkened cheeks. “If you saw that as a threat, take it that way.”

Henry blinked, and blinked again, his face turning incredulous. He began laughing uncontrollably, gripping his sides as he fell to his knees. 

“What does that  _ mean?!”  _ he barely stopped himself from shrieking, snorting and wheezing. “Johan Icarus Ramirez, what the  _ fuck _ does that mean?!”

“It means somethin’, I reckon.”

Henry kissed him while laughing.

* * *

Henry smiled as Joey waved at him through the window, shy and demure. He came into the clinician’s room, the doctor nodding his greeting toward her peer and continuing to speak to Joey. Henry had time to catch her saying, “overwork and past stress is a certain cause of your repeated hypothermia, and it absolutely has an effect on your seizures. Track them in a notebook. You might spot a pattern of infinite value.”

“And, er,” Joey’s voice lowered slightly, embarrassed, “The other issue?”

“We’ll get it taken care of,” she smiled at him. “The reading’s been sent to the lab, and we’ll let you know about any anomalies. Dr. Stein was your referral, yeah?”

“Yeah, I was,” Henry spoke for the other, taking his hand and giving it a small squeeze. “I keep trying to tell him it’s nothing to be embarrassed about, that chromosomes are different for everyone, and it would help to see if there’s something we can do to help him, but Jo’s stubbornly traditional.” 

“I am not,” he retorted in affront. “I am… merely disconcerted with the idea that the very essence of my DNA m-might be different than most.”

“You're still human,” Henry pointed out with a slight snort. “If you’ve got extra chromosomes or mutated ones, you’re still another person, different or not. If an alien looked at humans as a species they’d hardly pick you out of the bunch as ‘different’.”

“Sure,” Johan rolled his eyes. “Your average seven and a half foot red eyed blue haired toothpick man. Yes, v-very common. I’m certain I blend right in. Year 31 among them, n-no one suspects a thing.”

“You’d make a cute alien,” he remarked as they left the specialist’s office, smirking as Joey darkened. “All those stories with aëronauts coming and snatching away folks, well, what if I spin the table? Abduct you for a night to do all sorts of mysterious tests on the slender downy being that crash landed in my life?”

“ _ Y-you _ crash landed in my life,” Joey corrected. Henry paused in thought, then nodded with a shrug, and continued, “Then it’s all the more fitting, isn't it?”

“I suppose it is,” Joey acquiesced. His lips twitched as he formulated thought into words. “Do you… were your previous words an offer o-or a joke?”

“Could become both, if you want them to be,” Henry replied, somewhat surprised. A smile bloomed across his face. “Have you missed my medical examinations that much?”

“More you generally, and more, well,” Johan looked away as he blushed darker. “Curiosity growing.”

“I think you’re really hot,” Henry commented. Joey looked at him as though he had grown a second head atop his own. Henry took it upon himself to repeat and clarify. “I think you’re really, really hot, going out and figuring yourself out and inviting me into that. I think that’s super hot and attractive.”

“I,” Johan swallowed. “Um.”

“ _ So _ hot.” Henry’s grin was one of adoration and something sharper, making Joey shiver. “Want to go to my place? I cleaned it up recently as a just in case.”

“I-if you… if you wanna,” Joey muttered, his hand in Henry’s warm to the touch with his fluster. “B-but, I… I don’t wanna… um….” 

Henry understood him perfectly, and gave a light snort, but with love and understanding in his eyes. 

“You just want to kiss and cuddle?”

“Yeah, yeah, exactly,” Joey nodded. The way his terse shoulders sank and breathing relaxed revealed his relief. “Maybe a touch more, yet those for the line.”

“A line drawn by you is ink on my heart,” Henry avowed with his hand going through the motion of drawing an ‘x’ over said heart. Joey gently shook his head with an incredulous laugh, taking his hand. 

***

The day lapsed immensely slow for Henry, as he eagerly waited for the evening to come and the children to go to bed. Linda would babysit, naturally, the fifteen year old glad to be given some sort of responsibility to take off Joey’s load. She was good at caring for her siblings, and loved them all intensely with the doting of a grandmother. Though, once, Joey was vastly embarrassed to walk in on Linda and Marina kissing on the couch as teenagers are wont to do, he still trusted her with the job. After all, Henry pointed out, it was just a sign of maturity, at least in some regards. 

“Years passed too fast,” Joey remarked as Henry commented on it. “Though slow all the same.”

“As long as they were spent with you,” Henry smiled, taking Joey’s hand, “I think that they can pass as fast as they want.”

Johan settled himself between Henry’s legs as the man finished up his last frames, Joey’s head a gentle pressure on his heart. He ducked his own head to press a kiss to the top of those cloudlike whisps. Joey hummed in satisfaction, his arms wrapping around Henry’s middle. When he finished his work, he looked down at Joey, adoring the sweet way his eyes were closed with that wonderfully soft smile that he wanted so badly to kiss. So he did, a finger on the bottom of Johan’s chin to cause him to look up, and kissed him. Joey giggled, making Henry smile in their kiss. Johan broke away to hide his face in the crook of Henry’s neck, the doctor able to feel him grinning against his collarbone. He patted his back in a steady and gentle rhythm. When ten minutes passed, he thought that Johan might have fallen asleep, so he licked his lips in order to open them to whisper.

“Oi, honey, you good there?”

“Very.”

“Do you want to go to my place now or after dinner?” 

“After dinner sounds good to me.”

“Then it’s good with me.”

“I love you, Ray.”

“I love you, too.”

They went upstairs together, hand in hand, a quiet melody in their heartbeats. Henry looked up at Joey, unsurprised to see thought practically written on his brow.

“You worried about something, Johan?”

“Hm? No, no, not worried,” Joey smiled. “Just wondering. Seems fantastical.”

“What does?” Henry inquired for clarification. 

“Everything.”

***

Marina liked sitting at the Drew’s dinner table. It was crowded, but not in a way that made it uncomfortable, no, quite the opposite: it was homely and welcoming. Marina found Mr. Drew fascinating, enjoyed Dr. Stein’s anecdotes and stories, loved all the energy of the six children, and of course, adored being able to spend time with her girlfriend. Joey and Henry made perfectly dichotomized parents - Joey worrying and Henry reassuring. She and Linda waved them off when the two left, hand in hand, then settled back inside to set up a movie night for themselves and the kids.

“Popcorn, anyone?” Linda offered. The children all raised their hands. She laughed, and went into the kitchen to ready a bowl while Marina got blankets to swaddle into. They all made themselves comfortable (Charlie fell asleep immediately) and relaxed as the film started. Linda gave everyone their own bowl of popcorn, and cuddled next to Marina with a single bowl to share. Marina gave her a kiss on the cheek before becoming enveloped in the screen. The grainy static transformed into clear colored images. Linda grinned to herself, loving the effects used in the film industry, and whispered, “Movie time.”

***

“You’ve changed quite a bit lately,” Henry commented in the car. Joey turned to look at him, perplexed, worried. Henry smiled reassuringly. “Not in any bad ways. You’re looking out for yourself more than you used to. You used to be… so self destructive. In a whole lot of ways. Almost every single way you could get your hands on.”

“It was relieving,” Joey murmured. “To let go of everything.”

“You… you still have trouble doing that.”

“I know, but I’m n-not shooting up my veins with coke anymore.”

The car screeched to a halt in front of a red light not a moment too late. Johan muttered a remark under his breath about how people thought  _ he _ did not have a driver’s license.

“Coke?” Henry asked with wide eyes, turning his head to face Joey after pulling the car over to the side of the road. “Cocaine?” 

“Yeah, I… my father…” Johan looked away, then looked back. “I had problems bein’ happy as a kid.”

“Your father. A doctor,” Henry spoke slowly, trying to understand his own words. “Treated you, a child, with cocaine, for your mood. Is that what I’m hearing?”

“Yes.”

“And this is while he was also ‘treating’ you for insomnia, anxiety, etcetera…?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry, but what the hell was he thinking?” Henry asked air, knowing Joey would have no answer. “Was he on something himself? What sort of guy does that to his own kid?”

“Not the best guy,” Joey giggled, and leaned over to give Henry a kiss on the lips, surprising the golden haired man. He added, still leaning, “Luckily I’ve got the best guy here.”

Henry snorted, and kissed Joey once again.

“This conversation isn't over, you know,” he reminded. Joey nodded and leaned back into his chair, prompting Henry to re-engage the conversation with a, “Go on.” 

“Well, when did you stop shooting cocaine?” Henry inquired, restarting the car, his brow furrowing. “Can’t recall any time I saw you exhibiting any symptoms of it.”

“I didn’t use it when I had the studio, nor when I was… well, on the run,” Johan replied. “Too expensive. Morphine was easier to get a hold of, so I used that.”

“What else did your… father give you?” Johan felt his hackles raise as he heard the tone with which Henry posed the question. It was worried and sharp. 

“Not really sure,” Joey mumbled, looking out the window to watch the scenery shift instead of dwelling in his mind. “Cigarettes. Drugs he didn’t tell me the name of.”

“Bastard,” Henry muttered, a scowl marring his normally jovial features. Had someone who was less acquainted with him than Joey was were to look at him, his appearance would be quite jarring indeed. “Son of a bitch.”

“Henry?” Johan put his hand on the other’s thigh, just above his knee, startling him out of the dark stupor he had sunk himself into. “Are you alright?”

“I… physically, I’m fine,” Henry assured him. “But I’m all torn up inside, thinking about that man. You’ve said before that he was your good parent, and now, I… I can’t see that. I simply can’t.”

“What do you mean?” Johan asked with massive eyes, bewildered. “He wasn’t…  _ terrible _ . Simply very busy with his work.”

“Johan, from what I’ve heard about him, he spent more time giving you poison than he did just to be with you as your parent,” Henry retorted. “That he spent a lot of money on getting you tutors and not being with you himself aside from once a week. That your room was the very last room of a house that he designed.”

“What does the last part have to do with anything?” Joey clearly was even more mystified than before. “Sure, I was kept in the furthest location from the conventional exit, but there were hidden paths that could take me outside in moments.”

“It just strikes me as very wrong,” Henry sighed. “There’s just something so…  _ off _ about it all, and I can’t put my finger quite on it.”

“Watch the road,” Joey cautioned. Henry corrected his course even as he spoke. It was quiet for some moments until Johan stirred once more. “He was a very… absent figure. He made himself prominent through it. I idolized him.”

“I know,” Henry nodded. “You’ve mentioned it. Are you getting out of that state of mind yet?” 

“Slowly, I believe so,” Johan said, relaxing again as they turned into the private gravel drive that led to Henry’s house. “Very slowly, b-but progress nonetheless.”

“That’s all I can ask for,” Henry softly remarked, covering Joey’s hand with his own broad palm for a moment before returning it to the wheel. “For you to get better. For  _ us _ to get better. The world is healed, and now it’s our turn to.”

Henry shut off the car, and they sat for some moments looking at the cozy house full of student wares. Henry looked at Joey at the same time the other looked at him, and the mamihlapinatapai was broken by an extraordinarily loud gull cry. Both Henry and Joey looked out to see the bird, then glanced back at each other, smiling, and slipped out of the car, Joey feeling the buzz of anticipation and Henry bubbling with giddiness. 

Johan laughed as Henry tried to wrap an arm around his waist, dancing away nimbly. Henry, catching onto the game, tried again from another angle, swooping in from the right. Joey slipped by once more, and Henry grinned. He loved that laugh. God, he loved that laugh, and the man it belonged to. Red eyes flashed in his vision, a kiss deposited on his lips before slipping away once more. 

Henry, blushing now and stunned into submission, went to the door and opened it for Joey, kissing his hand and bowing him in like a proper gentleman when he accepted the invitation. Henry wrapped him into his arms, and they swayed, a four legged wobbling tree, strong together and apart, moving to and fro by their own rhythm. 

“Hey.”

Joey shrieked and spun around, face to face with a man he had not seen in fifteen years.

“Didn’t mean to scare you, little Joey,” he placated, looking up. “Jesus Christ, you’ve sprouted. I just thought that one,” he pointed at Henry, who made a squeaking noise of affront, still stunned as to who this man who came into his house uninvited was, “was short.”

“How long have you been waiting there?” Johan inquired, both amused and incredulous, his surprise outweighing his embarrassment, the blush of his cheeks hidden by the confused smile of his mouth. “Nevermind that, how d-did you  _ get  _ here?”

“Damn, your stutter’s better too,” the man scrubbed at his eyes. “Didn’t mean to interrupt you two lovebirds, I only found his address through medical connections.”

“Alessandra didn’t tell you my address?”

“I didn’t know she had it.”

The two stared at one another in silence. 

“You look just like you did,” Joey murmured, stepping away from Henry as though in a daze. “Only a bit aged, a bit taller, a bit of everythin’, but it’s still you.”

“Yep,” he replied, smiling just a bit. He opened his arms. “Come on, give your brother a hug.”

Joey pulled him into his arms. The two seemed to be in a power struggle that Henry nearly intervened between, but both emerged with teary grins. 

“It’s been too long, hermano,” Johan sighed. “So, Rico, what have you been up to? Settled down with someone yourself yet?”

“Yeah, that’s one of the reasons I’m here,” Ricardo puffed up like a proud peacock. “I’ve been engaged. I’d like you to come to my wedding to Amelie Carter.” 

“And I extend the same offer to you,” Johan beamed, taking Henry by the hand to pull him up to the other man. “Henry, this is my st-step brother, Josef Ricardo. Rico, this is my fiance, Henry Stein.”

“Great to finally meet you,” Henry shook Rico’s hand. “So, you’re the bastard that treated Joey better than the rest of the scum of your family.”

Rico laughed, delighted with Henry’s tact. 

“I like this one,” he commented to Johan, still grinning. “Yes, you could put it that way. Joey’s my little brother, no matter how tall he gets. Damn, seeing him keeps giving me whiplash. I need to sit down.” 

The three of them comfortably arranged themselves on the couch and armchair. Johan and Rico fell into a rapidfire banter made of some mix of spanish, english, and their own slang. Henry tried his best to keep with their banter, but was so out of their league that he found himself simply staring in surprise. He had heard of Rico, but only in flashes and minor references, and to see Joey so animatedly in conversation with him felt quite odd, especially considering Joey and Henry’s previous conversation just minutes before. 

“You caught yourself a handsome bugger,” Rico snorted, tilting his head towards Henry. Joey’s ears darkened significantly, about to speak to cut his brother off from the path he knew he was about to take, yet Rico grinned wider and spoke faster. “What’s your favorite part about him, hm? Those sexy eyes or cute curls? Or is it his rough and tough bodybuilder physique? Go on, favorites.”

“His soul,” Johan answered with ease, smiling tenderly, a sweetness in his eyes that made Henry fall in love all over again. “It’s pure gold.” 

“You’re such a sap, Johan,” Rico laughed. Johan blushed and shrugged in concession. “It’s so cute. Damnit, I missed you.”

Henry saw the slightest muscle in Johan’s jaw twitch. 

“I can’t quite reciprocate that in full yet,” he said in his careful slow way when he wanted to say his mind, aware that it could be offensive, however needing to release it. He looked away, ashamed in the silence that followed. “You promised to protect her.”

Another silence. Each movement was awkward and stiff, as though Johan brought the ocean to the surface with five words.

“I know.”

“He killed her.”

“I know.”

“You weren’t there.”

“I know.”

“My heart swapped faces with blames.”

“I’m sorry,” Rico looked away, pained, and repeated it, meeting agonized red eyes. “I can’t bring her back. I should’ve been there for you and her. I felt he would exploit that trip, and still went. And it cost you so much. I’m sorry. I miss her, too.” 

Henry watched as Johan’s calm chipped away. 

Watched as his head leaned back with tears on his lashes. 

Then, having slipped to his knees, lay his head in his step brother’s lap, and keened.

* * *

Henry and Joey woke up on the couch, Linda and Marina on the floor in front of them, and the kids whispering and giggling - which was never a good sign. Joey groggily opened his eyes to see Edgar holding a container of ink for Alice and Charlie, both of whom were painting on Rico’s face. After observing the scene, Henry and Joey whispered to one another, Henry kissed Joey’s shoulder, and soon fell back asleep.

Joey watched the kids for another few moments, then an idea formed in his mind that he could not quite escape from. 

“I’m disappointed,” Joey murmured, keeping a straight face best he could, and the children spun around with wide eyes and blushing cheeks. “You found out you have an uncle y-yesterday, and this is how you treat him?”

“Sorry Papa,” the six sighed in unison, and Joey felt the corner of his mouth twitch incessantly, forcing him to purse his lips. Boris, speaking for all of them, continued: “We won’t do it again.”

“What?” Johan feigned surprise. “I mean he deserves a handlebar moustache, not just some whiskers.”

The kids looked at each, then broke into broad grins and continued designing patterns all over their uncle’s face. Joey tucked his knees up and curled around Henry, smiling at their sweet antics. Glancing at the clock, he reluctantly disentangled from his beloved, slipping on his dress shirt and tie, clasping his pin upon the front. He quietly went to clean and freshen himself for the day, splashing chilly water over his face that made him shiver. 

“Mornin’ Mr. Drew!” Wally greeted him chipperly when he came downstairs. Sammy, holding a pitch black coffee, was squinting at the rather circular man with an expression of contempt - how dare he be functioning at eight thirty in the morning? “Heard ya brother showed up outta no where! How’s that goin’ with ya right now?”

“Rico is fine,” Joey replied. “The children are c-coloring on his face right now.”

Sammy and Wallly looked at each other and cracked up. 

“You’re such a  _ wonderful _ brother,” Sammy remarked, snorting into his coffee. “I’d love to be in Bendy’s place, bet he’s having an absolute ball of a time.”

“He is,” Joey confirmed. “Rico’s appearance was… unexpected.”

“What does he want from ya?” Wally asked, smirking. “Money?”

“Heavens, no,” Johan’s eyes went wide. “He doesn’t need any of that. No, he was inviting Henry, the kids, and I to his wedding.”

Sammy choked on and spat out his coffee. 

“What?” Joey asked, befuddled. “He’s a few years older than me, I’m glad he’s f-found someone.”

“Sammy just doesn’t like weddings,” Wally joked, nudging the musician. 

“No,” Sammy shot back. “It’s just surprising. He didn’t look like the kind of guy to marry. He looks like a bachelor figure.”

“He’s actually quite the g-gentleman,” Joey serenely remarked.

“JOHAN!” Rico’s voice boomed, surrounded by shrieks of children’s laughter. “YOUR CHILDREN ARE DEVILS!” 

“An absolute gentleman,” Joey laughed, head leaning back. He hollered back, “They’re only children!”

“They’ve given me a handlebar!”

“On my s-suggestion.”

The man appeared, in all his handlebarred, monocled, and freckled glory. 

“Still a prankster deep down, aren’t you?”

“If I wasn’t I would say so.”

“That makes no sense,” Rico remarked, plucking a lightly moistened towel from Johan’s arm to wipe down his face. Joey replied; “Was it s-supposed to?”

Rico snorted, tossing the towel onto his shoulder, one of his eyes appearing like he had gotten punched directly onto it. Joey shook his head and rolled his eyes, taking back the towel to repair the damage that Rico unintentionally wrought onto himself. 

“Your loverboy is up and listening to some radio about the war,” Rico informed him as he did so. Johan smiled. “He said something about ‘not doing what you planned’ and asked me to tell you that. Johan. Johan, why are you blushing.”

“He has no conception of privacy,” Joey muttered, more to himself than anyone. Still, he finished cleaning off Rico’s face, and nodded after double checking. “Care to join me in the break room for a c-cup of tea?”

“Call it the pub room to piss him off!” Wally advised, grinning and leaning on his mop. Johan lightly kicked said mop, causing the janitor to fall to the floor from the loss of his support. “Hey man, what the hell!”

“Instant karma,” Johan remarked. “Fascinating.”

“But you kicked it-”

“Extraordinary.” 

Rico laughed and followed his step brother to the break room. Johan mixed for him a coffee while he made for Johan a cup of tea. They handed each other the drinks, tapping their mugs together before taking a sip. 

“Too little honey, as p-per usual,” Johan pointed out, adding another tablespoon. 

“Yours is perfect,” Rico shrugged, smiling. They sat on a couch, and Rico asked him about his workers, his children, his life, and Johan did the same. “Also, Cecil told me to say hello for him.”

“Ah, return the greeting,” Joey smiled. Soon their conversation was interrupted by Susie bustling in, grinning. She settled herself between the two brothers. “Hello, Ms. Campbell--”

“You should have seen this one when he first started up this studio,” she gossiped to Rico, glowing with the words. Johan’s jaw dropped, slackened with shock. “He was nervous like a chicken, just like when I met him a few months before. And now look at him, he’s quite a confident guy with seven kids and a fiance.”

“Excuse me,” Johan remarked, getting up, blushing. “I n-need to check on Henry.”

He made his way upstairs quickly, hearing Susie go on about him, the studio, and the city. 

Henry wrapped him in his arms the moment he saw him. They sent the kids to school together, and Henry kissed him after Joey kissed each child’s forehead and bid them a good day. 

Johan melted, pressing his face to the side of Henry’s neck.

“I think I’m going crazy,” he whispered, his heart racing. 

“What on earth happened?” Henry asked, startled. “Joey, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t remember when I met Susie.”

“We met her together--”

“No.”

“What do you mean, ‘no’?” Henry asked, bewildered by Johan’s suddenly worrisome state. Just an hour ago he was bouncy and upbeat, and now he seemed to be dragged under by another crisis. “We met her when she came to the studio.”

“I sent her a letter to come.”

“But then… when…?”

“When did I meet her?” Joey’s laugh had a hysteric edge to it. “I don’t know.”

“That doesn’t mean you’re going crazy,” Henry assured him, picking up his chin. “It just means your mind was highly occupied then. You weren’t the healthiest person in those days, you know. And with the drugs you were taking, of course your memory would be altered.”

“I don’t even remember when I started taking them,” Johan whimpered, holding Henry tighter, hiding his face again. “Surely it wasn’t my father. It couldn’t’ve been, r-right? He wouldn’t have… would he?”

“Your step brother is here,” Henry reminded him. “He would know better than I.”

“C-can you come with me?” Joey inquired, looking at him from the corner of his eye. “To ask him? Please?”

“You don’t need to ask me twice,” Henry replied, taking his hand and going downstairs with him. Ricardio was still chatting, though now with Thomas. Thomas was telling him about how he maintained the numerous inventions of Johan’s, Rico impressed with both the style and amount. Henry cleared his throat to get their attention. Thomas nodded, bid them farewell, and proceeded to the lower floors. “So, Mr. Drew- damn that’s weird- mind if we have a chat with you in private?”

“Oh? Sure.” Rico grinned. “Anything for my little bro.” 

They went to the pool room, Henry passing to Rico a cue stick and taking his own. Johan cautiously took one as well while Henry set up the game.

“What do you know about Joey’s father?” Henry asked while Rico lined his shot. Rico cocked a brow and released his strike, sending the balls rolling. “If anything.”

“He was a creep. A player, a quack.” Rico frowned. “I saw him, as a medical professional, once. A very charismatic individual, but there was something that I felt that was innately wrong with him. Not sure what it was, but it was unnerving. My own father noticed nothing. Nice shot, by the way.”

“Did he try to prescribe to you anything?” Henry probed carefully. Rico thought for a moment, and answered: “As a matter of fact, yes. But it wasn’t relevant, so he dropped it. It was injection based, I remember that, but not the name or reason. Maybe a steroid.” 

“Do you know how he treated his family?”

“Terribly,” Rico answered without a second thought, striking again after Johan’s turn. He landed a ball, claiming it before continuing. “That’s why Alessandra came to my father. It was after a breaking point incident involving him.”

Johan stared at Rico’s thumb that had jabbed in his direction. 

He, quite frankly, had no idea what he was talking about, and Rico could see that on his face.

“You were small. I don’t think you’d remember it,” Rico gently told him. “His dad didn’t give a damn about family. He was selfish, and yes, he did sleep around. Alessandra didn’t care too much about that either, because she considered Jo as the anchor of the relationship. She told me that whenever she found Atabullshitus pulling this shit, she would go to Johan and sit with him for a bit.”

“I… I do remember s-some instances of… her coming to me in various states of distress,” Johan murmured, his brow furrowed. “Was this… no, he didn’t. His-- but--”

Johan fell silent. Rico glanced at him sympathetically, patting his back. 

“Want me to stop?”

“No. I want to remember.” 

“Well, according to Alessandra, there was one of those instances, and she went looking for Joey, but couldn’t find him in his room, or her room, or anywhere,” Rico carefully continued, watching Joey nearly miss his shot, hands shaking. “Joey, are you sure you want--”

“Go on. Please.”

“Okay. She couldn’t find you, and checked in Atabulus’ workshop-- the one in the Red Room,” Rico went on. Johan nodded, remembering vague details. “You were there, but not because you wanted to be? I think that’s what she said. You’ll have to ask her. You had a bloody nose and a black eye--”

“He hit me.” Joey’s voice was hollow. “I… I remember that. I didn’t want to go to the Red Room. I wanted to go to Cecil’s, but he took me there, and told me to wait. My head really hurt. I remember that.”

“Yeah.” Rico nodded solemnly. “That was the last straw for her.”

“He hit me because I caught him--” Johan’s face screwed with the effort to think and recall. “I caught him… no, no, he wasn’t with someone, he was-- damnit, why can’t I remember?!”

Henry and Rico jumped as Joey slammed down the cue stick. 

“Damnit, what is  _ wrong _ with me?!” Joey shouted, going dark with rage, trembling with fear of himself. “Why can’t I remember this?! It’s important!”

“Traumatic events are often warped and covered up by the mind,” Henry reminded him, swiftly going over to take his hands. “It’s natural that you can’t remember it.”

“I want to,” Johan insisted. “I need to.”

“You don’t need to remember any of that,” Henry replied. “This is the present. Your past does not dictate who you are.”

“What he said,” Rico interjected. “And don’t forget, Alessandra wasn’t a great mom either. You were a great kid being brought up in a not-so-great home.”

“You think so?” Johan asked, worried. “What if I was just as bad as them--”

“Impossible,” Rico retorted. “My dad hated that you somehow were little Mr. Perfect Sweetheart. He thought that deep down you were some sort of a monster.”

“Mm.”

“I’m serious!” Rico folded his arms. “He was so cruel to you because he wanted to make you break.” 

“Sure, sure.”

“Fight me over it! I dare you!”

Henry jumped back as Johan parried Rico’s oncoming blow.

“I won’t fight you,” Johan responded, parrying another swipe. Rico pressed up against him, and replied: “If you lose, your loverboy’s gonna owe me a kiss.” 

“Excuse me?” Henry spluttered. 

“An’ if I win?” Johan asked, raising a brow. 

“Then I’ll get for you two some private time to make up for my ‘interruption’,” Rico smirked as Henry darkened. “I can see  _ he  _ wants that.”

“F-fine.”

Henry watched in awe as Joey spun around. The round took two minutes, Joey deflecting every single one of Rico’s controlled swings. Johan got around him in three quick steps, up the pool table, down, and around, and incapacitated him; his cue pressed to Rico’s throat, pinning his arms behind his back, making his eyes widen.

“I win.”

“So you do.” Rico seemed stunned. “You’re much better at that than you used to be. Normally I had a chance to beat you.”

“Not anymore.” 

“No, not anymore.”

***

Henry gently pushed Johan into the unused room. 

“Want to make out?” he asked him. Johan responded by laughing and pulling Henry onto himself, the shorter standing over him as he sat on a stool. Henry smiled in the kiss, leaning down slowly, Johan bending fluidly. “God, I love you.”

“Love you, too, Henry,” Johan murmured. He kissed along his jaw, down his throat, playing with his bow by use of his lips. Henry chuckled, and nuzzled him back into a kiss. “You’re-- mm-- getting better, so much better.”

“My kissing?” Henry asked, smirking. “Or who I am?”

“Both,” Johan answered honestly, and pressed his hands to his cheeks, opening his mouth and Henry’s mind went blank, Joey’s presence and pressure the only thing he could ever care about. 

“I love you,” Johan whispered. “I know that, I know that I love you.”

“I know you love me,” Henry murmured, “And I love hearing it. I love you, all of you, and damn your memory if it bothers you. I love you.”

They both fell silent, reveling in their proximity.

***

Henry adjusted his shirt, fixed his disheveled hair. Johan lay on the floor, his shirt still open, pants folded on the stool, shorts and tank top askew but in place. Henry smiled at him, earning a blushing, sheepish smile. He leaned down to kiss him once more, running his hand over his leg again, loving the way the muscle within poised and flexed with restrained energy. There surely was a love bruise on Henry’s shoulder, and there were spots along Johan’s back that felt far more relaxed than normal, the Doctor’s touch soothing any knots of tension. 

“I love you,” Johan breathed, the floor beneath him feeling like clouds, his mind soaring. “I l-love you, thank you for… for being with me.”

“I love you, too, honey,” Henry smiled. “You don’t have to thank me for making out with me.”

“I… well, I should,” Johan retorted, carefully getting up. Henry helped him rise, chuckling. “What? I should!”

“Okay, baby,” Henry soothed, his heart racing all over with adoration. “I’ll see you later. Gotta check on the animation department.” 

“I love you,” Johan called after him. Henry blew him a kiss. Johan held it close to his heart. Henry yelled from the floor above, “I love you too!”

***

Johan rinsed his face, the warm water gentle on his cheekbones and forehead. 

Shutting off the water, he thought he saw a blur in his vision, and froze. 

There were two men standing behind him, and he did not recognize them. He pretended that he did not see them, wiping his hands, heart rate elevating and breathing exacerbating. He walked two paces, and then pulled out his concealed army issued pistol, spinning around and firing the weapon, shuddering at the spurt of blood that crossed his knuckles. The man he hit cursed, pressing a hand to his stomach, and Joey fired at the second, who swore and hit something on his belt. Johan gasped as he was tackled from behind, his hands secured behind his back, pistol taken from their grip. He screamed for Henry, over and over, and there was thunder in his ears. He could hear Henry arguing, Rico shouting, he could hear swearing, he could feel himself getting blindfolded, and his mind shut down, a seizure graciously gripping his faculties, carrying him away to a land far more peaceful and tranquil than the one his body was in.

What the hell was Project Electrolyte or the Manhattan Project, and what the hell did Joey have to do with either? The government agents refused to answer those questions, and Henry could do nothing but watch Johan be taken away from him without a promise of return. 

As soon as they were gone, Henry called Hackenbush even as Rico dialled for Alessandra. Whatever those ‘projects’ were, there was no way in hell Henry would stand for Johan being stolen from him, governmentally endorsed or not. 

He was his fiance, his love, his soulmate-- and he would do anything to keep it that way. 

Henry might have been slow to come to conclusions or empowerment, and Johan might have been the better activist, but Henry spoke out as loud as he could, demanding explanations. Displaced people joined him in his uproar, people who were removed from their homes under those same projects endorsement. 

Even Shawn praised him for his faithfulness. 

Henry replied that a mistake fixed could only become strengthened with effort. 

Soon Henry was given two small laminate calling cards by Hackenbush, one for General Leslie R. Groves and the other from Dr. Robert J. Oppenheimer. On the back, an appointment was written.

“So, these are the bastards that stole my fiance?” Henry asked, eyes narrowing. He recognized the names. “Wait-- he’s the pentagon guy, and he’s the Berkley professor. This explains even less. What does Johan have to do with national security?”

Hackenbush shrugged.

* * *

Mind powered on. 

Body shifted.

Eyes creaked open, an automaton unoiled. 

The pearl was in a shell, surrounded by a heavy oyster’s flesh. The air was dry and moist all at once, scratching at lungs and burning nostrils. A thin blanket moved up to protect those pained airways, another appendage adjusting eyesight, two half moons of pink gently bridged. There was a desk and a chair, several notebooks, a uniform hung on the door, a dresser with a mirror, and hardly anything else. The floor was wooden and bare. The walls were wooden, and not bare, one of them with a poster of silence beside a closet, another with a chalkboard, the one with the door, and a final one with a window. The ceiling was wooden with an electric light in the center. It was akin to a box.

Johan immediately disliked everything about it. 

He got up, and, noticing his indecency (to him this meant wearing only his shorts and tank top), swore under his breath and reluctantly dressed in the attire provided to him. It was an eerily perfect fit, and his pin was in the pant’s pocket. He clipped it on, glancing around. He checked within the desk and found an identification card with a black and white photograph of him showing his height. He recognized it from his trial against Disney. Next to it was a military doctor’s appointment card, his weight circled in red and a note mentioning he was underweight and should go to the office as soon as he was available. Joey frowned, slipping the ID card into his pocket, completely disregarding the appointment. He checked both of the drawers and only found more military issued wear in one, and three of his suits and two pajama sets in the other, labeled ‘formal/relaxed/personal gear’. The patch was unfamiliar to him, and he took out his ID card to inspect it better and to see if he could discover the meaning behind it.

Atomic Energy Commission. 

Now, what in the hell was that?

Johan decided he would rather not know, and made himself look as though he was in the know of what was going on and slipped out of the room. Past experience reminded him that an over seven foot man would not go easily unnoticed, especially not one with nearly white hair. His best chance was to go quietly and quickly, avoiding all he could.

The facility was pristine and orderly, much to Johan’s dissatisfaction. His escape was almost instantaneously thwarted by two men wearing similar, but not the same, uniforms.

“M-may I ask why I’m being d-detained here?” Johan inquired as they walked with him out of the building. As soon as the sunlight touched him, beaming around him and over his eyelids, Joey knew he was back south. He fought a shudder. 

“You’re not detained here, Dr. Ramirez,” one of the men remarked. It took Joey a few moments to realize that the man was talking to him. “You’ve been specifically asked for. Your workspace is in the physics and engineering department.”

“F-first of all, I… I’m not a doctor,” Joey corrected, his hackles raised at the name. “Secondly,  _ what?” _

“Did you not get a debriefing?”

“No, I don’t even know where I am!”

“Well, let me be the first to welcome you to Los Alamos.”

***

Joey was unhappy with the situation. He wanted to leave, he tried to leave, but was detained three times already, each time taken back to his room or a classroom-like setting. He sat through mildly interesting lectures and oddly familiar lessons, though some points made him shake his head in pity for anyone who would believe the nonsense spewing from some mouths. Despite how many times Joey gently corrected people, they seemed to be hellbent on calling him ‘Doctor’ Ramirez, which made him somewhat uncomfortable for a reason he could not quite put his finger on. He still did not know why he was there, aside from the fact that he knew that he would be put to work sooner or later, and the sooner he got to it, the better. After all, that meant he would go home sooner. 

And home sounded like heaven. Joey missed his children, he missed his friends, he missed his family, and he missed Henry terribly. They rarely had time together, always drawn apart far too quickly by circumstances that strove to keep them away from one another (at least it seemed that way). Joey was lovesick and homesick all at once, and it made for a messy sad man. He could hardly eat; especially considering there were barely any vegetarian options in the damn desert he had been brought to, and his appetite in and of itself was virtually gone. He had, in fact, seen the army doctor, and upon seeing Hackenbush (who was none too happy to see him there), pleaded for his rescue, to which he replied that he was already working on it. He managed to arrange for Johan to receive vegetarian meals, though he could barely stomach them. It was agonizing to be stuck there without any means of contacting his far away family.

Eventually work did come to Johan, and not in the way he anticipated.

He was given a classroom of his own, and asked to teach.

He was frozen, staring at Professor Oppenheimer. 

“I know it is rather unprecedented,” the man genially remarked. “For a Black man to stand in front of white men, most of whom are older than himself, and teach them theoretical engineering and physics. But these are unprecedented times, Dr. Ramirez, and we need your expertise.”

“My expertise?” Johan asked nigh hysterically, voice cracking. “The only ex-expertise I have is in being a cowboy sadly serenading for his fiance in New York!”

“We know what you are capable of, Dr.,” Oppenheimer flung back. “Your knowledge of quantum physics far outclasses many here. It would be a great honor for you, and for us, to learn under you.”

Johan groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose, leaning his head back and running quick calculations and simple estimations in his mind. 

“Give me two days to prepare.”

“Absolutely.”

“And about thirty cases of Coca-cola.”

“Ah. Alright.”

“What am I t-teaching again? Quantum physics?”

“Yes, if that won’t be a problem.”

“The quantum physics?” Johan smiled, trying to make the man understand what exactly he was setting himself up for. “Sir, that’s the easy part. The hard part is that I’m n-not a teacher.”

***

Oppenheimer found himself surrounded by scientists clamorring and trying to ask him what on earth Dr. Ramirez was talking about. The man had to be batshit insane, right? No way were there other universes. Quilted multiverse? What does that mean? Timeline fractures? What was he talking about?

Johan’s lecture had been on the possible impact of another atomic detonation, no matter where in the world it may occur. It was both fascinating and horrifying to see the man rattle off so much information that seemed to be first hand knowledge. Had he lived in Chicago for a time to garner so much to say about fallout? 

Robert knocked and entered Joey's room without waiting for a reply, the man yawning a, “Come in,” as he did so. It was a rather unholy mess of papers scattered about, and from what Oppenheimer could tell, nearly all of them were written in a cipher. All but one of the thirty cases of sugar and caffeine had been consumed, and he also realized that he did not see the man eating regularly in those past two days, nor were there any empty plates in the room, Joey looking decidedly haggard in comparison to whatever normal could be. Robert decided to invite him to a meal in celebration, and to ask him why he started with such an obscure yet particular lesson.

“Oh, hey,” the man remarked, a contraption holding a paper steady from the ceiling while he worked on it from his bed. “I take it that you’re here b-because of a bunch of quite bewildered p-physicists? They followed rather well, b-but I could see that most didn’t want to believe what they heard.”

“Yes. May I ask--”

“Why did I start with th-the multiverse theory?”

“Precisely.”

Johan went quiet, and his face lost some softness as a cloud passed over it. He was clearly mulling over a possible answer to give to the man, already having one but figuring out how to phase it.

“To make a point.”

Of all answers he could have possibly given, this was the one Oppenheimer least expected, disarming him and making him step a pace back. He fell onto his original plan to clear his own mind and try to understand what he meant without asking. 

“Well, Dr. Ramirez, I think that point has earned you a meal,” Robert replied. “Come along. I heard you’re vegetarian, so I had a special meal prepared for you in honor of your first lesson.”

Johan looked at him over steepled index fingers, the rest of his hands clasped. 

“I haven’t eaten, have I?”

“No, I don’t think you have.”

“Ah. Then, let’s go.”

***

Joey devoured whatever had been provided to him, all while rapidly firing information between bites, though never with a full mouth, or even with one partially filled, his polite manners preventing him from doing so. Robert found the man himself rather interesting, perhaps even more than his teachings, however it was a rather close call between the two. Joey recapped his lecture, explained some more minutiae details that may have been missed, and then fell silent. 

Robert glanced at him over his own meal. He was quietly looking at his empty plate, hands barely touching one another, expression neutral-- and sad. There was something in his eyes that was very, very sad. 

“Got a girl?” Robert asked, making Johan’s head raise suddenly with the quick change in conversation. Robert, from the motion, re-noticed the pin, and smiled albeit a bit awkwardly, and added, “Or a boy?”

“Ah, um,” Johan smiled unbidden, the smile of remembering someone special. “A fiancé.”

“Oh?” he prompted, raising a brow. “How’d you meet?”

“We met when I started m-my studio.”

“Another artist, I assume?”

“And a doctor.”

“Must be very intelligent,” Robert remarked, impressed with Joey’s catch. “It suits you. I could hardly think that you’d be satisfied with someone of a far lower intellect of your own.”

“He is,” Johan nodded. “Though I think that everyone h-has a relatively similar amount of intelligence, just used in differing locations and ways throughout their lives.” 

“A good philosophy to have,” the other agreed, though not wholeheartedly. Johan could read that easily enough. He made no remark, kept his head down, and became quiet again. “You’re quite an interesting man, Dr. Ramirez.”

“Why does everyone insist upon calling me so?” Johan asked with a soft tone, nearly a whisper. “I am not a doctor, nor am I my father.”

“What sort of doctor was your father?”

“... a zoologist.” Joey’s expression became conflicted, lips fighting a smile, eyes struggling not to narrow. “A pig.”

“A pig doctor?” Oppenheimer could not hold back his smile of amusement. “Well, that might contribute to your vegetarianism, doesn’t it?”

“In a way, perhaps it d-does.”

“Ah, well, Johan, I need to go now,” he remarked, standing. “It was a good talk we had. Do try to tone down the theoretical physics-- we need hard math right now.”

Joey was left, red eyes trailing the man, making him shiver. 

***

Joey’s next lesson was on math, alright.

It was on so much math that the students could not keep up, even having Von Neumann teaching in other classes, the physicist well known for erasing equations he had just supplied to a board. While Johan did the courtesy of not erasing his work, he did use his height to his advantage, every single inch of the chalkboard becoming full with his rapidfire explanations to what would happen in the case that a hydrogen atom lost a quark due to a sudden fission. The lost fragment would release tons of jules, and rock the very earth with Newtons. Hydrogen bombs would be too expensive and dangerous to manufacture, as well as with a too low success rate, to produce, was Joey’s main point. Very few scientists understood that, the rest mocking him for his convoluted remarks and trying to wrap their heads around what he was saying.

Oppenheimer found himself in Johan’s room again.

The man was, again, working, but this time from upside down, his knees hooked over the closet door, tie tucked neatly into his shirt to prevent it from falling into his face. 

“Hello again.”

“Hello. You’re tormenting my scientists.”

“It is they who are tormenting themselves.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I doubted you would.”

“What is your ‘point’, the one you sought to make?”

“Humanity.”

Oppenheimer could not help a smile from breaking over his lips. 

“We’ll see about that, Dr. Ramirez. Please make your next class simpler. Calculus, for example.”

***

“H-hello again.”

“My scientists are frustrated with your teaching, Dr. Ramirez.”

“I thought you were c-coming to check on me after I seized up in those classes. Three t-times today.”

“That was a concern of mine as well. However, the fate of the country--”

“The world as we know it, Professor.”

“Please,” the man scoffed. “Atomic weaponry has been used before, you know this as well as anyone.”

“This is different. There will be no need. The war is already ending.”

“I thought you were  _ for _ the effort?” Robert asked, taking one of Johan’s Bendy posters from his pocket. 

“Being for the effort d-does not mean having a hand in killing innocents!”

Both minds fell quiet. Red eyes bored into Robert’s, accusatory, flashing with righteous anger. 

“I expect your next lesson to be on the mark for what we need to know,” Robert snarled, grasping the doorknob. “Otherwise, you can kiss the idea of going home goodbye. Enjoy your night.”

“Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck fuck fuck you!” Johan intoned heavily as the physicist slammed the door shut, locking the Chicano in his room as his sonorous and solemn words reverberated. “Millions of innocent p-people will die! Millions have died, why add to the number of mourners! Murderer!”

Robert walked away with his face burning and head turning.

***

There were some of Joey’s students that came to admire him. They came to enjoy laughing with him and chatting with him. He was a good man to know, they agreed, and even if they could not understand what he was trying to teach all the time, he still tried very hard, and became visibly flustered when his point was not realized. They comforted him when he grew frustrated or after a seizure or when he would wistfully look out the window to open air and freedom.

He invited them to come to tea when he could, tidying up his little room just enough to be presentable, leaving most of his notes out. One of the students took an interest in the binary codes that Johan would use instead of regular language, and another liked trying to polish his spanish under him, the third loving long winded chess matches. 

The three of them all liked the idea of sticking by him afterwards, and even sought ways to get him out. His spanish student weaseled his mother’s name from him, a name not to be placed around. Awestriken, the three realized they had a key in their hands, and wired immediately.

Afterall, it’s not every day one gets to meet her ladyship Alessandra Ramirez.

***

Paperwork? Not required. Passport? Please. Identification? Unnecessary. The only thing needed was her name, and with it she marched through every door. 

Even Oppenheimer bowed to her prestige. 

“Take me to him, Professor.”

“Right away, my lady, but-- why? What interest do you have in him?”

“You must be a very blind man.” 

“Ah-- right you are. Sorry.”

“Unaccepted. Hurry up, stop dawdling.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Joey turned his head when he heard a far too familiar knock.

_ A far too familial knock. _

He stared at the door in a mixture of curiosity and horror, like when one stumbles across a body mummified by ice or sun. 

For once, she waited for his reply, and he hesitated to give one. He rose from his bed, ran a hand through his hair, and opened the door, looking down at the woman he spent so much time staring up at amidst worry and turmoil. 

They stared at one another. 

Washed out brown clashing with piercing ruby, shining emeralds encircling teal and mint. 

Alessandra’s face shattered. 

“Oh, my Johan, how badly I have hurt you,” she wrapped her arms around him, startling him with his birth tongue, his face sealing in pain, brows knitting and eyes closing tightly. He held her back in an embrace of his own, heart aching. “Johan, Johan, Joey, my son, I’m so sorry….”

“I c-cannot say that it is okay,” Joey began, inhaling, the smell of peppermint and ghost pepper smarting his eyes once more. “Because it is not. It is not okay.”

“I know, I know,” she listened to his heart beat, and the sound was almost shocking. “I know.”

“Why are you here?”

“Because you should not be here.”

“But I must….”

“For what purpose do you slave away?” his mother stepped back, gesturing to his room. “They do not need you here.”

“I must be here,” Johan murmured. “But… having p-permission to leave when I am done… would be extremely helpful.”

“Consider it done.”

“I cannot thank you.”

“I understand.”

The mother and son were left alone after she gave instructions. Johan’s freedom was given to him. Neither spoke.

“Maybe this should wait,” Joey murmured. She nodded in agreement; “I will see you soon.”

***

Johan’s sabotage had gone unnoticed. Or if it was noticed, it was accepted, silently. 

The worlds of Nagasaki would live.

* * *

Oppenheimer was to accompany him. Joey did not particularly mind, but it made for some awkwardness when he found out. The artist got into the passenger seat of the car with the professor driving, and as they drove across America’s heartland, neither spoke. Johan had been given a package with some information on his family, which he was supremely grateful for, especially having not seen nor heard from them for his entire stay at Los Alamos. He learned that the children were placed in Bertrum and Lacie’s custody, for Henry had been sent to war, news that jarred and upset him. Oppenheimer relieved his stress by informing him that Henry and the twins were already back in the mainland of America, the twins sustaining injuries and Henry accompanying them home. 

It seemed that some things were inevitable. Joey accepted that. He had a small seizure in the car, which Robert blamed on the heat and monotonicity of the drive. Johan managed a smile at the poor coverage of his stress. 

While they drove, Oppenheimer asked Joey to talk-- about anything. 

“Just make sure I don’t fall asleep,” he warned smilingly. “These rides are very boring.”

Johan chose to speak of fantastical worlds that could not possibly exist, where the ground was made of stardust and the sky of opals. He talked about caves far beneath the human reach and mind, worlds invisible to man, the life of the fae and familiars, where trees sang and clouds twisted like snakes. Where if you were to crack open a walnut, you might find a fantastic tapestry, or a wee bonny rabbit. There were bears who wore the skin of women, and not the way the were-folk of their world would; there those bears would be like selkies, sneaking into the homes of unfaithful and brutal men and devouring them alive. 

The most amazing part was the way he claimed he had been to those worlds. He spoke of them from his own perspective, telling the tale from the eyes of a witness. It was fascinating to hear. 

They stopped at a motel, one which Johan requested a phone call at. It was the first call he would be making in months, possibly-- however long he had been drawn away. He hesitated with dialling, and rung up Bertrum, too anticipatory to call Henry.

“Ahoy, you’ve reached B. Piedmont, architect and landscaper, how may I be of assistance?”

“Hello, Uncle Bertie.”

Joey heard the phone fall out of the man’s hand, and his scramble to pick it up. 

“Johan? Is that you?”

“Yes, how are you?”

“Damn relieved to hear you,” Bertrum exhaled, long and hard. “It’s been good. Lacie and I have had to take time off so that we could be with the kids-- they sent out Henry, they didn’t like the attention he was bringing to their secret little project. The one you were pulled into.”

“It’s not as little as you m-might think,” Johan replied. “Rather… colossal.”

“Is it now?”

“Yes.”

“How much so?”

Johan felt Oppenheimer’s eyes on his back. 

“So c-colossal that it’s classified.”

“I see.” there was a slight pause from the older gentleman. “Are you safe?”

“As safe as I can be,” Joey answered, leaning against the wall. “What of y-you? And Lacie? And the children? How are they?”

“We’re all safe and sound, Johan,” Bertrum warmly remarked. “No need to fret about us. Are you coming home soon?”

“I’m on my way,” Joey said, the words sounding almost unreal to his own ears. “I should be home within the next few days. Please inform the children; and tell them I say hello and that I love them.”

“They know that you love them, Johan,” Bertrum’s smile was able to be heard. “But I will remind them nonetheless. They will be ecstatic to know you’re coming home, and they just celebrated Henry’s return. It must be a homecoming season, I say.”

“It certainly f-feels like it,” Joey replied. “I can’t wait t-to come home, myself. Goodness, I missed you all so much, more than you can imagine.”

“We all missed you as well, Joey,” Bertrum informed him. “It’s not the same without you here. It’s not at all the same.”

Joey sagged against the wall as he listened to his uncle continue to speak. His heart ached, and his head was starting to hurt. 

“I have to go,” he said, Oppenheimer tapping his watch. “Long distance calls are… expensive.”

“Understandable,” Bertrum hummed, though he sounded sad to let Joey go. “We all eagerly await your arrival back at home.”

“I miss you, I love you Uncle Bertie,” Johan blurted before the line cut. He stared at the phone in his hand, his five minutes gone. He was reaching into his pocket when his eyes lifted, and he beheld Robert paying for his bill. He blinked, and smiled slightly. “Th-thank you….”

“Don’t mention it,” Oppenheimer shrugged. “You haven’t talked to your family in a while. It was the least I could do for you.”

“You are driving me n-nearly to New York,” Joey reminded him. “It’s quite aways out of your w-way.”

“True,” he conceded. “But it was either that or ship you there in a coffin. Not exactly the most pleasant ride, I’m sure.”

“Like, dead in a coffin?” Joey asked, a bit shocked. Oppenheimer shook his head. “But why?”

“To keep you alive,” he answered. “But that information is classified.”

“What the everliving hell,” Joey spoke. “Why is there so much… on my person?”

“Classified.”

“Are you j-just saying that because you don’t know?”

“That and it is classified.”

“Strange….”

“I agree. Now, I bid you a good night. Order for yourself a salad or something, whatever you rabbit people eat.”

Joey and Robert shared a small laugh, and Johan went to his own room, and sank down the door. 

He was not hungry. Freedom felt strange. He went back out of his room, down the hall, and slipped out from the place they were staying after making sure the key was in his pocket. There was a small grocery store that was just about ready to close, and he made some small talk with a worker, promising himself to be no trouble. He bought some berries and fruit, thanking them for the time they kindly gave to him. Back to the room, he absentmindedly washed and ate the sweet mealpieces, wondering what the state at home would be like. He doubted that chaos would reign, not with Susie and Bertrum at the helms, alongside Sammy and Grant. No, it would be smooth and efficient. 

How could things be different without him there? 

It was not like he did anything special.

He was just there, at the head, just a figurehead. 

What was he needed for?

Maybe Von Neumann was right, that he should have stayed in Los Alamos and continued his work there as a physicist. There he was not needed either, a cog in the machine, but a cog that made the world flow a little differently nonetheless.

Then again, Joey did not exactly fit the mold. Johan throught about it while tossing the orange he bought up and down, catch, and release, up and down. He was not a teacher; though anyone could be, Joey was not one for a group consisting solely of cisgender white straight males. No, the more of a variety, the better, at least in Johan’s eyes. He himself was quite a minority, a black queer Chicano-- and his studio was just as diverse. Those that were from the small ethnic groups, those understood him, and those in his studio who did fit the idea of Americanized ‘regularity’ were kind and open minded, and made themselves learn to understand. It was wonderful. 

He missed them.

Yet still, he was not needed. He was a puppet to unseen forces. What did they need him for?

Absolutely nothing. Zilch. 

He sank down the bedpost, the orange half unpeeled and the acidic pulp under his nails. Staring in its direction, seemingly through it, was all he was able to muster for the time. What was he needed for back at home? What was he needed for at all? He could just as easily transfer the children’s required tether to someone else until they would find someone they each would want to spend their lives with, and then tether them to whomever they chose. 

Joey’s hand unwittingly tightened on the orange as his body seized. His mind went blank. 

Johan came to with the sticky juices of the fruit dripping down his wrist. 

***

“You okay, there, Dr. Ramirez?” Oppenheimer’s eyes shone his concern, flicking from the road to the sad looking man looking out the window, slumped in the seat. “I thought you’d be happier going home at long last.”

“Mm, I thought so too,” Johan murmured. “So why am I not happier? I c-can’t answer that peculiar question for you. Especially b-because I don’t know myself.”

“Tell me… do you have these bouts often?” Robert inquired. Joey shrugged. “Have you ever been through anything, well, traumatic?”

Johan snorted.

“I d-don’t think I’ve been through anything that  _ wasn’t _ traumatic.”

“That sounds rather exaggerated.”

“Tell me, have you e-ever seen your own heart pulled from its case?”

“... no, I have not, and I hope to never.”

“I hope you don’t either,” Joey muttered. “I d-don’t wish it on anyone.”

“I take it that you have experienced that?” Robert probed. Joey nodded, not looking at him. “That must have been terrifying.”

“The blood loss kills your fear,” Joey corrected. “It’s more morbid and intriguing.”

“The fact that such a horrific thing even could happen seems even more terrifying,” the other remarked. Johan nodded. “And I take it that this is not the only trauma that happened to you.”

“It’s one of very, very m-many,” Johan sighed, sinking further in his seat. Oppenheimer’s eyes caught a glimmer of a scar on his neck. Robert frowned, and nodded slightly, telling him; “Well, I think you’re a pretty good man for someone who went through a lot of poor situations. Many who go through a lot of bad stuff end up being just as awful as those that harmed them.”

“I’ve seen that,” Joey acknowledged. “Yet I’ve s-seen people who were j-just plain rotten, through and through, and people who were terrible, however, they grew and found a source of remorse and b-became better. People change-- and sometimes I fear I will yet change for the worse.”

“No, no way,” Robert scoffed. “There’s no way that you’re going to go south like that. Other people, sure, but you? You’re a one of a kind person, Joey.”

“Technically n--”

“Nope, nope, I’m not getting into the multiverse theory with you,” Oppenheimer warned. “I don’t need to go crazy thinking about all that insanity. It’s simply not conducive to me and my mind. That lunacy is your field. However, in this world, you are one of a kind. And that is that.”

“Well, I suppose… thank you, or no thank you,” Joey shrugged. “Uniqueness can be q-quite a curse.”

“Oh, hush, you know I’m complimenting you,” Robert huffed. Their conversation continued, ebbing and flowing in amount spoken, up until the sun set and they made for another motel. Joey watched as they passed one, two, and then three, and he was about to speak when Robert smiled at him. “I have a surprise for you.”

“Wh-what?” Joey blinked, confused. “But why?”

“We couldn’t exactly take you in a good way, so we’re at least trying to send you back in one,” Robert told him lowly. “So we hope this is going to be good for you.”

“I see?” Joey replied, clearly not seeing. 

“You will,” Robert smiled. 

***

Johan stretched as he got out of the car. A seven and a half foot man in a car is no laughing matter. It will always be uncomfortable, despite how roomy the car might be. Oppenheimer went to meet with someone else in uniform, who saluted him, and handed him two keys. He tossed to Joey a set.

“Hotel room is on the key,” he informed him. “There’s food already in the room for you.”

“Ah, okay,” Joey stared up at the hotel. He nodded and stuck his hand out for Oppenheimer to shake. “Well, it was an honor to serve with you.”

“The honor is extended back to you from I,” he nodded. “And, Joey?”

“Yessir?”

“I’d like to thank you, on behalf of the entire Atomic Energy Commission,” Robert said, startling him. “You’re a smarter and braver man than most of us.”

Joey thought he cried when Oppenheimer saluted him, and then brought him into a hug.

“Thank you, Johan Ramirez.”

“It was the least I could do, though, next time, an advance warning would be nice.”

“May there be no need for a next time, but if you ever want to stop by Los Alamos, we’d be honored to have you visit.”

***

Johan rode the elevator all the way up to the fourteenth floor. Walked to the fourth door and slipped into the room. Sighing and rubbing his face, he stretched and then yawned. 

“Hey honeybee.”

Joey stared at him with an open mouth, eyes wide.

“Did you miss me?”

“Henry!”

Henry found himself held tightly on the bed, pushed onto it from the force at which Johan had leapt onto him. 

“Oh, Johan…” Henry ran a hand through his hair. “Johan, I missed you so much….”

“I missed y-you s-so so so much, Henry, Henry, Ray, I love you, I missed you….”

Henry could say nothing, burying his face into Joey’s shoulder, breathing in the smell of the man and kissing his sore muscle. Their eyes met, and Henry’s hands came to Joey’s uniform, unbuttoning it for him and gently removing the shirt from his shoulders. Johan deftly did the same as Henry removed the other’s pants, and two sets of uniform were placed on a chair beside the bed. Joey’s fingers gently traced over a bandage on Henry’s arm, and he kissed the wound as softly as he could.

“You’ve been hurt….”

“Nothing I can’t handle, sweetheart.”

Joey sat up on Henry’s lap, and wrapped him into a hug. Henry melted into the contact, both men having been without the kind touch of another person for too long. Johan’s warm hands ran soothing tracks along Henry’s bare chest, around to his back, to his legs and arms, a solid indication that he was there-- to both of them. Henry’s form was even stockier than usual, running around at war driving him to increase his strength, and Joey’s was even thinner than just a few months ago, a lack of appetite and available food sapping at his already poor eating habits. Henry shook his head at the sight and feeling.

“You’re so skinny,” he whispered. “Have they been feeding you at all over there?”

“They’ve tried, but…” Joey’s forehead pressed to Henry’s, chest to chest, and legs curled around legs. “Y-You know h-how I get when I’ve got a project. It becomes the only thing. An’ I was really worried about the family, and you… gosh, I missed you… I missed you so much, Henry.”

“I’m here, babydoll,” Henry assured him, brushing back blue tipped silver strands. “I’m here.”

Johan kissed him. Henry’s hands were solid masses on his hips, grounding him. One arm wrapped over Henry’s shoulder, the other around his ribs, head tilting and mouth opening, warmth blooming between them. Joey’s knees were bent to rest around Henry’s legs, like two stiff yet soft bellied snakes curled around heated trees. Henry loved how Joey had no qualms with being stripped bare with him, and only him, from body to soul. They kissed as long as they could, moving apart to murmur vows of love and woes of wist, to breathe in the same air that their fiance was breathing. It was just enough contact between the two, but Joey shivered, causing Henry to draw the blanket around them, heating them with the immediate friction and growing insulation. 

Joey cuddled against Henry’s chest. 

“I love you,” he murmured, some tears dripping onto the blonde’s skin. “I l-love you so much, Henry.”

“Johan Icarus Ramirez, I love you, I love you so damn much, I’d destroy anything that would try to keep us apart ever again. Ever.” Henry swore, brow creasing ever so slightly. “I love you so much, my Joey. Honeybee, sweetheart, babydoll, my Joey, Johan, I love you.”

“And to think…” Johan murmured, smiling at him, his own brow arched. “That there was a t-time when you could barely manage to say those words. You’ve changed, Henry. For the a-absolute best.”

“Oh, I think I have a long way to go,” Henry replied, kissing his cheeks and laughing at the beard that was growing there. “I think I could be  _ much _ better, don’t you?”

“That’s all up to you, my dearest Henry,” Johan giggled, gasping as Henry’s nails scratched ever so slightly onto his back. “Oh, th-that is good.”

“Isn’t it?” Henry asked teasingly, and managed to capture Joey’s lips once more, both smiling, and Joey melting all the more as the doctor rubbed his back. “I heard you got an honorary doctorate degree. What’s your field, honey?”

“Quantum and theoretical physics,” Johan replied, surprised that the knowledge spread to Henry already-- he had been presented with the degree when he left Los Alamos. Johan grinned. “So we’re both doctors now.”

“Oh, damnit, Joey, after we get married you better not start answering to Dr. Stein--”

“Yes?”

“I-- Well… okay, I gotta admit, that’s pretty hot,” Henry acceded, blushing a tad. “But it’s going to confuse the hell out of our poor workers.”

“Pretty h-hot?!” Johan tried not to laugh. “That’s so silly, Henr--”

Joey could say no more as Henry kissed him.

***

Joey smiled at Henry as the man changed lanes.

“What’re you thinking about, Joey?”

“How much I love you.”

“I love you too.”


	4. Tone

Henry watched happily as Johan reconnected with the studio members. He had come in a day before the other with the twins, which made for an excellent time to pick up his fiance. Now, three days later, the return of the studio heads was still fresh, but the roiling was settling into a simmer. Smiling a tad, and twisting the ring on his finger slightly, Henry slipped away to meet with Allison. The woman and he were trying to develop a short for Alice, and they were having a lot of fun tossing ideas at the wall and seeing which would stick. Johan on the other hand was working with Abby, who had made new comics for the toons, dimestore copies that could be purchased to fund services such as meals and translations for those immigrating to America, especially anyone hit by the war. Joey constantly had the radio on in his office, which Henry called out as unhealthy, but he would just look at him with pain in his eyes and shake his head. 

Joey, on his first day home, produced and tweaked two prosthetic prototypes-- a hand for Wally, and a foot for Willy. When they thanked him he could only nod, wishing he could have done something to protect them. Susie tried to cheer him up, but as the two went out for a coffee, Johan suffered another seizure-- which only succeeded in souring his mood further. Though, as he noted while working under Oppenheimer, some of the seizures he had definitely caused an impact on his speaking, worsening his stutter or removing the capability of words from his mouth altogether, and listening to people could often sound like a jumble of sounds rather than intelligent conversation.

Still, he made due with what he could do, trying to keep himself healthier. That meant going to bed when Henry would tell him to, eat whatever was given to him, eat what was  _ not _ given to him, because as Henry had remarked (as well as many others) he had definitely lost quite a bit of weight working at Los Alamos. Seeing as he was already far underweight, the doctor had given him strict orders to eat and snack often. It was hard to gain any mass being vegetarian, which knocked out a large amount of proteins from a regular diet. Henry calibrated him to have at least five meals a day, a good mark being seven, essentially making him a hobbit. It was difficult, and he barely managed three, maybe four on a good day. Good days were hard to come by with fear on his heels. 

Joey’s head raised from where it lay on his desk in a sluggish and jerky manner. His nights had been fraught with poor sleep and stressful nightmares that kept him tossing and turning. Some had been so vivid they caused him to check on his family as well as his enemies, to be absolutely certain they were safely far away from himself. It was terrifying and reassuring all at once, and Joey clutched onto the good side of those feelings as if he were a drowning kitten and that were a scrap of driftwood that his claws managed to sink into. The normally temperate summer seemed like a blizzard in his mind, particles of snow floating around his vision to vanish away when he blinked, the nightmare of a final winter constantly on his mind, his students and fellow scientists always arguing the truth of Stephen Schnieder’s smokeosphere theory, with Johan knowing its verity from experience.

Black skies. 

Black seas.

Ink swallowing, ash snaring, dead air, dead air. 

Joey woke up shivering, reaching for and unable to find his cloak. He rubbed his hands together as his teeth chattered, feeling blood seep from wounds long scarred over. Joey raised his hands to his eyes, to inspect them better. He found nothing but the marrs that the printing press had left upon them, and a sapphire ring glinting dazzlingly.

Those glints blurred as his hand shook-- or did his eyes water? Was it both? He blinked and gripped his wrist, settling the blur. He made his vision focus, refusing to accept another seizure, not that day, no more. One was enough, and even Norman worried when there were four. However, Johan may have been a master over his thoughts, but no one can control the impulses running through their mind, the brain never going silent, and so, his muscles stiffened and his jaw locked, his brain turning everything off. Or did he just fall back asleep? 

The hand gently running through his hair said so. Joey’s eyes opened to beautiful moons of the Earth. Henry smiled at him and kissed his forehead, obstructing his view for a moment. 

“How was your nap, sweetheart?” 

“A bit Hellish. I dreamt about h-having a seizure during w-work.”

“Aw, poor baby bee,” Henry crooned, but there was sincerity and true concern under the comical flash in his eyes. “You’ve been stressing about that a lot, lately.”

“It’s stressful, and therefore it stresses me,” Johan iterated. Henry kissed his cheek without a word, wrapping muscular arms around him, silently remarking that he was his protector. Joey caught him around the back of his neck, and pressed their mouths together. Henry hummed, stroking Joey’s side and running patterns along his back. Johan’s hand remained in gold curls, fingers wrapping in a steady motion, the other mandible resting on his hip and tightening in the bed’s blanket. Their kiss was interrupted by a knock on the door, a little sniffling Alice coming into the room. Johan scooped her into his arms, plunking her onto their bed. “What’s wrong, mi querida Alice?”

“I had a nightmare,” she hiccoughed. Johan’s brow arched in sympathy and he brushed back her blue black hair. He held her a bit tighter, running his hand over her head as he found his words. “I’m sorry to hear that, angel. Do you want to talk about it?”

She shook her head and gripped around his middle a bit tighter. Henry gathered her against his chest, and slowly started singing a low lullabye from his own childhood. Joey watched in adoration and mesmerization, loving the tones of his fiance. Henry rarely sang, more of a hummer, and his low voice coupled with the foreign lyrics made for a beautiful melody that swept anyone who listened into a sweet transfixion of peace and wist. Alice’s tears eased and her breathing slowed. Henry smiled, thinking that she had fallen asleep, but then she whispered:

“I dreamed that Papi died.” 

Both Joey and Henry felt silence grip them around their throats, and their daughter was already claimed by sleep. Henry’s eyes were on Joey’s face, observing his reaction before making one for himself. Joey’s jaw knotted and twitched, the clench that the bone held spasming in a way only Henry could note. He frowned, shoulders falling, and he reached for Johan’s hand, heart twanging like an off tune guitar when Johan flinched away.

Henry’s head lowered in shame.

“It doesn’t change what I did, but… I’m so sorry, Joey,” he said hollowly. “I’m sorry that it’s still hurting you and our family. I’m so damn sorry.”

“I d-don’t think the two are connected,” Johan remarked, settling Alice onto his pillow. She curled onto it with a tiny smile, holding onto a corner. “I think she had a premonition.”

“No.” Henry firmly said. His eyes turned to steel and his shoulders stiffened, his hand grasping Joey’s. “Absolutely not.”

“I am mortal, Henry,” Joey shook his head with his soft saying, smiling slightly. “I will die eventually.”

“But it won’t be for a long damn time,” Henry swore, determination in his expression and body. “It will not be for a long time, on my watch. I’d beat death away with my bare hands if that’s what it took.”

“Maybe wear gloves,” Johan chuckled, his fingers intertwining with Henry’s, an assuring pressure. Though it made Henry relax the slightest bit, his hackles remained raised. “I know quite well for a f-fact that Death fights dirty.”

“Oh, do they?” Henry smiled, but there was a twang of madness in his eye. “Well, good thing I fight even dirtier.”

“Really now? Mind showing me?”

With a quick motion extending his arm and twisting, Henry incapacitated Joey against his chest. Johan, held firm, was very, very still, and Henry did not know if he did something horribly wrong or incredibly right.

“I don’t think th-that’s exactly ‘dirty fighting’, they’d easily k-kill you,” he remarked after a moment, and shot Henry a beautifully stunning smile. Doubly stunning, because Henry gawked at him one second, and the next he found himself upon the floor with a grunt, an arm behind his back and Joey’s femur pressing into both of his knees, completely holding him down, and still with an arm free.

“Dead.” Joey whispered solemnly, marking a point on Henry’s back, between his ribs on his left side, right above his heart. Henry swallowed roughly, understanding what Joey meant. Johan got off of him, looking away, toying with his fingers as if he could unscrew them and replace them elsewhere. Thoughts overtook his mind, and he spoke without processing. “I… you know, Henry, I’ve never… feared or d-disliked the idea of death. It always, it always was an… almost exciting prospect. To me? Death was a promise to… to see my baby again. An’ before her, it was a c-chance to see my father. Before him, it was somethin’ I didn’t understand, but after… I began to yearn f-for it. I wanted to be with my family, especially because I felt like I d-didn’t spend enough time with my f-father, though it was really the reverse. There were times I’ve… have I ever told you about the t-time I almost drove over a cliff?”

“No,” Henry replied, aghast. “You don’t mean….”

“I couldn’t d-decide,” Joey curled in on himself against the side of the bed. “It was j-just after Aramis was stolen from life. I didn’t want it anymore. I was alone in a stolen car with no one, n-nothing, and nowhere to go. So I thought… why not?”

“Oh, Joey, god, that… that’s terrible,” Henry took his hand, stroking the back with his thumb. “I wish you didn’t have to go through that. Any of that.”

“It doesn’t matter n-now,” Joey murmured. “Because for the first time in my life… I don’t want to die.”

“As I said before, I won’t let you,” Henry vowed, looking through the windows to his soul. “I won’t lose you again. I’ve messed up too many times to let you go without a fight, dirty tricks or not.” 

Joey said nothing, but his head lowered, only to have it lifted up by Henry’s fingertips. 

“I love you.” he said, as if it was the only important fact in the entire universe. “And that’s all that will ever matter. Nothing’s got anything on that. Ever. I. Love. You. Johan. Icarus. Ramirez.”

“I love you, too, Henry,” Johan crumbled, lip trembling, eyes shining with wet. “I love you an’, an’, and I want to get married. I know we’re engaged, but I want t-to be married to you, when can we marry?”

“Whenever you’d like, sweetheart,” Henry assured him, running his thumbs over his cheeks and pulling him into a kiss, gentle and sweet, and to Joey, in that moment, his being and all he said was everything that could have been. They broke apart to breathe, and Henry asked him; “Which season?”

“Not winter,” Joey replied and returned to kissing him. Henry chuckled as Joey peppered his face with the gentlest of presses. “Is there one you’d w-want, or not want?”

“What do you think of Autumn?” Henry murmured, running his hand through Joey’s hair, remembering his conversation with Sammy, nearly a year ago. “August… the warmth ending of summer, the crisp start of fall… and you. You being beautiful… G-d, you’d be so beautiful… I can picture you then, slim and stunning, your hair painting the sky, the gold and reds around you accenting your gorgeous skin, the grass still green beneath your feet… so beautiful.”

“Henry,” Joey admonished, shaking his head slightly with bemusement and love. “Henry, I think  _ you’d _ look better in the fall.”

“Better? No,” Henry smiled. “Maybe just as good. Barely. But of course, you’d look good in all seasons, there’s one I’ve got to compete with, huh?”

“Your kissing is incomparable,” Joey remarked, to which Henry got the point, laughing as he pecked his lips. “More, p-please.”

“The kids would like Autumn I think,” Henry said with a perfectly calm voice, loving the way he got Joey humming and moaning into his mouth, nodding with his words. “Alice dressing up and making sure all the boys look nice. She’d like to take charge of that.”

“Yes, and Linda could help them supply their needs,” Joey agreed, pulling him onto his mouth once more and eagerly opening his lips for him. Henry chuckled, smirking, and Joey pulled back to question him. “What’re you smilin’ at?”

“Just how unraveled I make you,” Henry replied, happily, and hugged him, reveling in the closeness. “Joey, I adore you.”

“I love you,” Joey giggled, then sighed and leaned upon his fiance. “I’m glad that we’re going to get m-married. I’ve always dreamed of that.”

“As you say, dreams come true,” Henry murmured, cupping Joey’s face once more and pulling him into a long, slow kiss.   
  
***

“Okay, can you bend down and touch your toes for me?” Joey did as he was instructed. “Looks good, no spinal issues to be seen… walk along that line, please. Balance seems fine. Your blood pressure is a little low, but that’s healthy for someone your size. However, you are underweight, as I’m sure you’ve been told many times. Aside from that, I don’t see any problems. The doctor will be in shortly.”

Johan sighed as the nurse left, sitting back onto the consulting chair. Constant headaches made for exhaustion to seep into his limbs. He thought he would leave them behind in Los Alamos, once the unending stress would go away, but he had been proven wrong. He had thought the same with the increased seizures, but that too had become something regular. 

Alice’s dream put him at unease, and once that night had passed, he scheduled some appointments with general physicians that Henry recommended. That same day, they received a call from the clinician who had seen him some months prior, telling them that there might be a reason for Joey’s genetic composition, and Joey decided to see her as well.

So there he was, waiting for her to arrive. 

When she came in, she made a quick check over his general feelings, emotional and otherwise, and settled herself in her chair. 

“A few years back,” she began, tapping a clipboard, “Dr. Harry Klinefelter and a few of his collegues did some research with nine men with similar symptoms to yours. I’m not one hundred percent positive, but it appears that you  _ do _ have Klinefelter syndrome. I just have some questions to double check.”

“Oh, um, okay,” Joey blinked, a bit thrust into the conversation. It felt strangely validating to have a word to show for his differences-- and it made him feel human, after all. “It’s not a b-bad thing, is it?”

“Not really,” she smiled reassuringly. “You don’t appear to have the more severe aspects of the syndrome which makes it much more difficult to diagnose, but easier for you in your life. So, in your blood, there was a lot less androgen than other men, and in your sample, there was a lot less active sperm. Additionally, you have decreased thyroid activity. Your voice is a little high for someone so tall. All of those symptoms point to Klinefelter. Still, most men who do have Klinefelter are sterile, and, well, slow individuals with low ambition. Those do not correspond with you. How are you in crowds?”

“Um, a little uncomfortable, but I can handle them,” he replied. “I get n-nervous when there’s a l-lot of people around.”

“Okay, sounds good,” she nodded, glancing at her clipboard and then back at him. “Could you take off your shirt? With any undershirts.”

“Sure,” Joey answered, trying not to blush. It took him a moment, and she snapped on a pair of gloves. 

“Am I allowed to touch you?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Thank you.”

Johan did his best to stay as still as possible, allowing her to touch his chest and stomach, though it made him flinch at times. She finished checking over him and indicated that he could put his shirt back on, which he tried to not do too quickly as he was prone to.

“You have some minor gynecomastia, and your hair pattern is limited,” she said, and he nodded. “And you do have hips. All of which, again, are signs of Klinefelter. So, Klinefelter-- it’s when someone is geno and pheno typically male, but has a lot of female traits. We’re not sure why it shows up yet, but when we figure it out in the future, we’ll let you know. Now, the nurse told me you’ve been having frequent headaches and seizures a lot more often. Have you been eating less lately?”

“No, actually I’ve b-been eating more than usual,” Johan responded. She hummed for a second and then marked that down. 

“Any vomiting, dizziness?”

“Dizziness when I stand sometimes.”

“It seems you’re a bit dehydrated,” she told him. “Make sure to drink more often. Avoid processed sugars and stick with fruit and vegetable sourced ones. It could also be hyperstimulation. Try to relax more often, and if you’re comfortable with doing so, try to get an orgasm.”

“Okay,” he said. 

Soon he was back home.

“How’re you feeling?” Henry asked him, coming up for a break. 

“Kinda empty,” Joey admitted, a cup of water sitting before him.

Henry hugged him.

* * *

Henry’s concerned face was the first thing he saw when he came to. His eyes wandered to take in the sounds he heard, and he could see that the kids were still on the playground, hardly noticing their father’s distress, and Joey was grateful for that. He eventually managed to shift his gaze back to Henry, his mouth opening to assure him that he was alright. 

Nothing came out.

At first, he was confused, and he could see the worry on Henry’s face increase, so he tried again. Silence then frustrated him, and he closed his eyes to concentrate, and it clicked finally. 

“I-- I okay,” he forced, brow knitting. Not this again…. “Word… hard.”

Henry’s shoulders sank. 

“What’s going on with you?” he whispered in worry, pulling him into his arms, rocking them both gently in an internal rhythm. “Joey, I don’t like it… I’m… I’m afraid that there’s something more than just, just dehydration.”

“Be fine,” Johan said, and sighed, trying to work the muscles of his jaw the way he wanted, lips unable to form the words he wanted to say. He switched to sign instead. ‘Will be okay soon.’

Henry’s face contorted. 

“I’m scheduling you to an experimental doctor,” Henry told him. Johan tilted his head in question. “They specialize in localized problems.”

‘Where is the problem?’ Joey asked him, hoping the doctor would have an answer. Whether he did or did not, Joey did not find out, as he only shook his head and looked away, signalling that he did not want to talk about the matter any more, which Johan accepted. He settled his head on Henry’s shoulder, their fingers entwined, and he rested in the aftermath of his seizure. Henry’s hand wrapped around his own solidly, an anchor made of flesh and muscle, warm and wonderfully grounding Joey to reality, that he was here and safe with his family, and the radio could turn off for a day or two, relieving stress from his mind, stress that built constantly like pressure in a shaken soda can. 

“I’m tired of you not being taken seriously,” Henry muttered. Johan looked down at him with those big eyes that made his heart soften. “Do you have any appointments soon?”

“A few,” Joey replied, glad that his aphasia was finally wearing off with the increase of his relaxation. “In two days.” 

“Mhm,” Henry confirmed in his own mind. “Do you want me to come with you? As your physician?”

“As fiance,” Johan giggled in response, eyes darting side to side before kissing him softly. “And doctor. If that’s what y-you want.”

“Fine, fine,” Henry smiled, glad to see him getting better slowly. “I’m going to make sure that they don’t skimp out on you. I guess that I simply don’t understand what the matter is, but I’ll make sure those who do or can understand tell us.”

“What if we… don’t actually want to know?” Joey asked him with a touch of worry in his soft voice. “What if the answer is s-something worse than we can handle?”

“What can we not handle?” Henry inquired in return, smiling. “We can handle anything, doll. Trust me on that. We can do this.”

“We can do this,” Johan echoed, his own lips twitching to mirror the other’s expression. Henry nodded, and leaned to kiss him, earning a stare or two from a few people walking around the park. They paid them no mind at all, in their own special world where there were only the two of them, and their family right beside them. “Thank you, Henry. So much.”

“Thank  _ you _ ,” Henry smiled, hugging him a bit tighter. “I love you so much, Johan.”

“I love you very much as well, Henry,” Joey murmured, smiling slightly. He glanced at his watch, and stood up to let out a rhythmed whistle, and to any onlookers, it may have appeared to summon the children in but a moment. “Time to go h-home, everyone. Who’s ready for bed?”

Six hands rose up into the air. Henry glanced over at Linda, snorting to see that she and Marina were still kissing by a tree. 

“Do you want to get them, or should I?” Henry asked Johan teasingly, knowing the answer, adoring the way Joey’s face flushed. Henry laughed and went to get the two young ladies, and following their example, took Johan’s hand into his own. It made the taller man smile. Henry grinned and kissed his wrist, the two of them falling back so Henry could wrap his arm about Johan’s waist. He looked up at him with bright eyes. “My delightful devilish date, do you want to go out to dinner Tuesday?”

“Like,  _ out _ out?” Joey asked, his cheeks darkening with the thought of eating together in public. Goodness they risked enough with these outings. 

“ _ Out _ out,” Henry confirmed, almost smug. “Maybe even with, I dunno, telling the press? Coming out via going out?” 

“Henry, that’s terrifying,” Johan rebuked. “Tempting, b-but terrifying nonetheless.”

“So come along, then,” Henry murmured, smilingly. “Let temptation take us.”

“Oh, I’d-- Henry, you’re a devil,” Johan scolded him. “You  _ know _ why we c-can’t--”

“So? Taboo schmaboo, we’ve been through enough, hell, we’re getting  _ married _ ,” Henry proclaimed, waving his ring in Joey’s face. “I want people to know they can’t take us apart. Not again.”

“Let’s talk about this tomorrow,” Joey replied, sinking into bed. Henry’s muscled arms tucked him to his chest. Joey’s tension eased out of his body, but remained in his mind. His eyes were closed and he tried to relax, breathing like a metronome, constant in and out. However rest evaded him, and he turned to look at Henry’s features, hoping that those physical aspects would lull him into sleep from their comforting presence. 

There were more lines in Henry’s forehead than when he had met him. Yet the doctor still felt like he was less worried. Perhaps it was the slow formation of crows feet at the corner of his eyes, the line of his smile becoming creased onto his cheeks. 

They were not getting any younger. 

The risque was fading from their being, the norm of their love resonating contentedly deep in the animator’s bones. How long had it been since the last time he worried about them being seen in the truth of that love? A long time. He ran a hand through Henry’s hair as he made up his mind. 

Maybe he would even call the paparazzi. A smile came to Joey’s lips as the churning of his thoughts finally seemed to come to a slowing halt.

Screw it.

***

The camera flashed and Henry and Joey relaxed. They looked at each other happily, trying not to grin too widely at one another. Joey set himself to dismantling the photography setup, a simple picture with just the two of them. It was special in the way that it was mundane. Henry hummed as he went to the kitchen, circling another date on the calendar, picking up and setting the kettle on the stove. Joey had already suffered a seizure that day, and was feeling better in the fact he doubted he would be struck by another any time soon. 

He and Joey had bought for Linda a car for her birthday, Johan having saved up for a long time for this gift, admitting to Henry that he had been saving since he met them, knowing that one day the little three year old would grow up to be an independent little lady. It was custom built, with any and all amenities that Linda could have asked for. She loved picking up Marina in it, kissing her in the passenger seat as soon as they were at a good location to look at the stars. The two girls had just come home that night, wishing to the two fathers a good night before slipping into bed.

Henry smiled softly, reminiscing on young love. Once upon a time he had a sweetheart with bright eyes and angel smooth skin, even when acne would go across it, always beautifully shining. Laughter of heavens and gentle hands, brilliant in her own quiet way. She was his junior by a mere few months, and they grew up together in the same town, in the same school, in the same classes. Sure, there were many other kids that had been around Henry, but none like her. She made him exceptionally happy, and he could see the same was reflected to her. Henry said he wanted to marry her in kindergarten; the two of them shared their first kiss when they were in grade school; were discussing engagement upon entering high school; and Henry proposed by their graduation. Their first year together was one of sweet kisses and touches, gentle and unifying all the more. Linda came soon after, both of them having worked for a long time before agreeing on having a child. Henry was all for it, and Eleanor was a touch nervous, but Henry could see that she was excited for the prospect, and soon enough, their family became one of three, for three lovely, wonderful years.

And then it was two again.

Henry could feel himself tense again in the present with the hyper aggression that had seized him following his shocking grief. He was supposed to be able to save her, he was supposed to be her knight in shining armor, no disease strong enough to take her from him. 

Then he had to let her go, go into the ground. 

The religious figure standing near her head filled him with anger. The people that had come to send condolences enraged him. He swallowed down the bitter taste of his fuming, acidic and painful. Depression of the blackest sort ensnared him following the anger that he held onto to spout outwards to any unlucky fellow. He could not attend his classes, having to take care of Linda during the day and head to the clinic by night, his grades slipping, and eventually he found himself backed into a financial corner of hell built just for him, the school barring him from attending and the clinic rescinding his ability to work there due to the loss of his school allowance. Jobless, degreeless, and wifeless. 

It nearly broke him, and after tucking Linda into bed one night and putting her in the care of a trustworthy neighbor, he went out on a walk, and a curious light from a building that he thought was abandoned attracted his attention. 

Joey was a blessing in disguise, almost literally, always hiding in clothes that did not quite suit him. 

Henry’s lips slowly twitched into a smile as he looked down at his left hand-- the turquoise gem glistening and reflecting the light of his eyes back to himself. The five diamonds forming a star around the precious stone sparkled like Joey when he would laugh. 

He might have feared becoming attached to the man, fearing the same fate that befell him with his first love, but he knew now that it was impossible to end up in that situation again, and if he would grip too hard on keeping his heart the exact way he wanted, it would end up breaking into irreparable pieces that would drive into his hands with painful force. 

“What’re you thinking about, Henry?” Joey’s voice pulled him from his reverie, and he looked to the man with a dazed look in his eye. “You look a bit out of it, sunshine.”

“It’s nothing, honey,” Henry assured him, smiling at last. “I was just thinking about how I met you, Joey. Have I ever told you that you saved me?”

“When?” Johan asked jokingly, but Henry could see the bewildered look in his eye. The question was genuine, and the man cleverly disguised it. Nervous fool, Henry thought to himself, heart fluttering. “Pray tell me of the time I’ve saved you, my dear.”

“When we met, you saved me four hundred times at least,” Henry attested, taking one of Joey’s hands into both of his own. “You’re like, well, a demon. People might fear you but in reality you’re just being the best person you can. Your goodness is hidden.”

“Oh, Henry, you’re trying to turn me into a sop,” Johan shyly shifted where he stood, his hand giving Henry’s a slight squeeze. “I’m not anything special, you know th-that.”

“Do I know such blasphemy?” Henry asked, his voice dropping at least two octaves. Joey’s skin crawled with a shiver anticipatorily, the realization of which making him dark with fluster. “Or are your lips whispering sinister lies and defamation against  _ my lord _ ?”

“N-no, no, I,” Johan stuttered, and his eyes watered as Henry’s nose brushed next to his own. “I--”

“Because if you are, I may have to cleanse your mouth,” he taunted from a chair, walking along the furniture to keep being at a similar height to that of Joey’s, smirking with his warm breath tickling through Johan’s beard and moustache like wind through wheat as the doctor walked him backwards. “You dare blaspheme he who is generous and kind? An impudent mule, braying without any truth?”

Joey found his back pressed to the wall, looking down at Henry-- but not for long. 

Henry’s hand slipped along his leg to the curve of his knee, and pulled him down by pulling it up, catching him from falling entirely with a hand on his shoulder, pushing his heart pin down. 

Henry could feel Joey’s heart thumping beneath metal and clothes and skin and bone and muscle, eyes so wide they could have been mistaken for the sun, setting and red. The sun was setting beyond dark shores of the deepest blue, atop freshly tilled and rained earth. 

“I love you,” softly passed through hitched breath and reverberated in wide eyes. “Henry, you-- you know I love you, yeah?”

“Yes, I do.” 

“Can we g-go… out?”

Henry blinked, trying to figure out what he meant. 

“Like out for dinner?”

“Out like… public,” Joey answered, shifting. “Like--”

“Good evening from the White House in Washington,” barely crackled from the radio, making both men turn to the quiet device. Joey’s hand reached to turn up the volume, accidentally cutting it for a brief moment. “-nd gentlemen, the president of the United States.”

Henry and Joey looked at each other in the pause. There was a fear in Joey’s eyes. 

“My fellow Americans,” Truman spoke, many miles away, “I have just returned from Berlin.”

The two fiances sat on the couch, listening intently. 

“Atomic bomb?” Henry mouthed, then his brows rose in a panic, “third world war?!”

“United Nations, my ass,” Joey scoffed. “We can only pray that the world is too tired to fight any more.”

“Isn’t Stalin a murderer of his own people?”

“Yes, but he supports America, and therefore America s-supports him.”

“What’s the atomic bomb?” Henry asked, brow furrowed. “Is that what you worked on?” 

Joey only nodded.

“I don’t agree with extending-g the war any longer, but I do agree that the people of Europe need resources,” Johan murmured, leaning back with worry marked on his features. “Perhaps we could run a charity drive….”

“We could,” Henry assented. “It would be nice. We could do a bake sale with non-perishables-- anything we don’t sell, we can ship out.”

“Genius,” Joey complimented, smiling for the first time since the broadcast started. Henry leaned over to kiss him, when Truman continued, disturbing them both. Our warning went unheeded; our terms were rejected. Joey paled further than earlier, making Henry’s heart pang. “They plan on dropping another bomb…?”

“What is Hiroshima?” Henry inquired. “The military base?”

“It’s a city, a regular city,” Johan replied, disgusted, bitter. Henry stared, feeling his stomach turn. “Like New York. Imagine there were about, uh, twenty thousand soldiers in New York City. There’s your damned ‘military base’.”

“So… how many civilians? The president says they wanted to avoid civilian deaths.”

“Then they shouldn’t’ve dropped an atomic hell bomb. By the calculations I did at--” Joey suddenly stopped, looking around, his voice lowering to less than a whisper. “At Los Alamos, I estimated about sixty eight to eighty seven thousand victims if a uranium gun fission bomb were t-to be used.”

“Fuck,” Henry whispered, shocked. 

They listened on in silence, until a bitter chuckle from Joey got Henry’s attention. 

“Note he did not say the Soviet Union,” he murmured. “The ‘brotherhood’ already collapses.”

The broadcast ended shortly after, and Henry pulled out a bottle of moscato-- the only drink that Joey and Henry agreed to have due to their lilts towards alcoholism. 

“To the great cause of a just and lasting peace?” Henry asked Joey as he passed him a cup, smiling. Johan accepted the drink and clinked it to Henry’s, echoing; “To just and lasting peace.”

They drank quietly, leaning into each other more and more. Henry felt a tear of Johan’s splash onto his hand, and he turned to kiss those tears away. 

“It’s not your fault,” Henry whispered, kissing his cheeks up and down. Joey’s chest shook. “It’s not at all. You can’t blame yourself, not even close. They made you work on that thing.”

Johan pulled him to his mouth without saying another word, the sweet taste of the beverage on his lips and tongue, and Henry knew that this was the comfort Joey was seeking, the knowledge that humanity could still have love and hope even during a time of horrific events. That they could still be together. That they  _ were _ together, and not torn apart by barbed wire, stars and stripes. 

This kiss ended. Henry bundled him into his arms, flicking off the living room light and walking with a slight sway to their own bedroom, putting him down with a slow, long kiss. 

“This tuesday, let’s go out,” Joey whispered, finishing their earlier conversation. “ _ Out _ out.”

Henry smiled, kissing him again. 

“I’d absolutely love to.”

They beamed at each other, serious yet content, happy. 

* * *

Henry was no mechanic. He had no need to be one. Afterall, there were enough mechanics in their large family, extended or not. However, he and Joey agreed that for this one little ceremony, he would learn to weld. 

It was important. 

Not that it was  _ imperative _ , but it was a good idea that the two of them wanted to accomplish, and so Henry, under Lacie and Thomas’ instruction, learned how to properly hold and wield the welding device, soon enough able to do so on his own. The man giddily burnt a heart into metal, signing it with H + J, feeling like a young schoolboy once more, rather than the middle aged man who had been to war (and death) and back. He would gift it to Johan. Or he would put it in the music department for people to coo over until Joey would go to investigate, and get all blushing and soft, sweet and adorable in the manner that Henry had never expected to see, let alone live alongside. 

This man meant so much to Henry.

Not only had they built a studio together, but also a family, a home, a successful cartoon, and now even were finally opening the long anticipated theme park-- of course, it was open for children to test and the studio members to enjoy, but now it was officially opening. A  _ grand _ opening to be precise. 

The thought made Henry bubbly with excitement. 

Though not for the reason most people would think, no. 

It was a surprise. A planned surprise, but a surprise for the world nonetheless. 

It made him giggle just to think of it. 

It made him nervous. And excited.

“Anticipatory?” Johan asked, looking at his face. “You seem like that, r-right now. What’s on your mind, darling Henry of mine?”

“Our little red ribbon,” Henry replied with a light chuckle that made Joey grow warm and rather on the anticipatory side himself. He handed to Johan the metal plate, now gracefully designed. “Er, I made this for you, honey.”

“It’s adorable,” Joey remarked, eyes shining with that soft glow within. Henry resisted the urge to comment ‘not as adorable as you’, knowing that he would have plenty of time to tell him that on other occasions, but now-- “How’s your day been so far?”

“It’s been alright, but Joey, why are you back so soon?” Henry inquired of him, his soft brow furrowing. “Your appointment was supposed to go on for another hour or so.”

“Oh, that’s n-neither here nor there,” Joey waved off, though Henry clearly noticed the nervous jump in his fluttering words. “It was a mere checkover.”

“They brushed you off again, didn’t they.”

“I- Henry-”

“No. Don’t apologize,” Henry rebuked him, then reigned in his temper. “I’m not mad at you. Not at all. Not in a million years. “I’m pissed at those- those liars of doctors. Specialists my ass, they’re more like confined locales of idiocy. There’s something up with your health and no one is taking it seriously.”

“Yet you are,” Johan pointed out, trying not to worry him by hiding his shivers. Henry gave him a look of exasperation and adoration. “Besides, this week, we agreed not to fret about this matter. N-Not much, at least.”

“We did agree on that, yes,” Henry conceded the point. Broad hands settled around a thin waist, a smile growing as a trail went down, though his head took the opposite direction just as slow, Joey’s shy fidgeting and uncertainty of what to do absolutely emboldening. “But I think we also agreed on another little thing….”

“A-and what little thing was that?” Joey asked, unsure, racking his mind for the answer. “Something about orders?”

“Oh, yes, we agreed you’d follow your doctor’s orders,” Henry remarked smoothly, like ice cream blended into a milkshake, a hint of dangerous chill and thrill in his tone. It made an impact on Joey’s core, a spike of energy pouring into him like a sugar rush. “Your doctor’s going to order you to sit and eat with him, and then he’s going to take you to your room for an examination. Be ready to disrobe in case he requires it of you.”

“You’re an absolute scoundrel!” Johan gasped, darkening through his smile. “This is a breach of conduct, sir!”

“Oh, is it?” Henry teasingly inquired, guiding Joey to sit so they would be eye to eye. “Conduct has no hold when blackmail is abound. Certain proclivities are in your medical case, ones I’m sure you would not like to go publ--”

“Henry, please stop for a bit,” Joey’s smile wavered. Henry blinked and instantly snapped out of the playful act he was in. “I’ve… too much stuff with doctors lately. And… I still need to come to terms with the new information on m-my file. As well as c-calming myself with the thought of so much publicity.”

“Completely understandable, honey,” Henry smiled, taking his hand to kiss it. He entered the kitchen and called; “You do need to eat, though. I’ll grab you something. Do you have something in mind, or do you want a surprise?”

“Surprise me,” Joey replied, leaning back. It seemed only yesterday he was alone in an apartment without fifty dollars to his name. Henry returned and kissed his cheek, pulling him away from his reminisce in the most heartwarming manner possible. Joey caught his shoulder to draw him back, smiling alongside him. He beamed at the doctor after moving back slowly. “What’s my surprise?”

“The dinner you missed last night,” Henry cocked a brow, and Joey squirmed in his seat, not having realized that he was caught evading the meal. “Mushroom and vegetable stuffed peppers. It’s Sori’s recipe, I’m sure you’ll like it.”

“I’m certain that I’ll try to,” Johan responded jokingly, only to be silenced again by another kiss. “Goodness, you’re affectionate today.”

“Thought it well enough,” Henry told him, shrugging, setting the plate before him and sitting in the chair beside him. “At one of the AA meetings the topic was finding fulfillment in everyday life. Bertrum said that I particularly should take it to heart.”

“That’s a good thing to seek,” Johan commented. After he took a few bites of his food under the adoration struck gaze of Henry, he found his mouth occupied once more and blocked from his meal by a pair of lips. A hot feeling emanated from that point of contact, tingling and sparking along his every nerve. He was just about to reciprocate when his mind whispered a warning, that these flares were not alone in their traversion, the electricity staying where it should not. “H-Henry, I, uh, I’m about to have a seizure.”

Henry pulled away abruptly, taking in the information easily and helping Joey up, leading him to their room and settling him on their bed. He stroked Joey’s cheek until the man tensed, his entire body going rigid. 

Like rigor mortis.

That thought was stamped out immediately, Henry taking his solid, warm hand, the muscles spasming and gripping back mindlessly. Already the time was being counted in the doctor’s mind, and before he knew it, Joey was coming back to himself-- and the doctor. Henry smiled slightly as he yawned and curled around him. 

“How are you feeling?”

“Hungry.”

“Ah, should I get your plate?”

“No.”

“Well, then, what are you going to do about it? Get it yourself?” Henry snorted, though his mirth was cut short by the man settling on his lap, straddling his hips in one smooth motion.

“I will get it myself,” Joey nearly whispered, so low was his tone. Henry’s eyes widened as Johan kissed him, all chaste but with an energy hiding beneath thin skin. “I didn’t say I was hungry for food, did I?”

“No, you didn’t but I,” Henry was cut off once more, his eyes closed and allowing Joey to have his way with him, “Wasn’t expecting this at all.”

“I was thinking,” Joey murmured. “We’re not getting any younger.”

“No, we’re not.”

“So why not relish in the moment?”

“Like me being a better father?”

“And husband.”

“That sounds like a plan, Johan. Like one I could get behind.”

“Would you come with me to pick up the kids? Alice would want some support for her and Barley’s science fair experiment.”

“Ten year olds,” Henry sighed and shook his head, though the corners of his eyes crinkled with deep set happiness. “Of course I’d love to come. Those kids knocked it out of the park. Linda and Marina get your message?”

“Yes, they did, they’ll be joining us for lunch tomorrow,” Johan replied. “Marina doesn’t want to miss a particular pyrotechnics course.” 

“Of course she doesn’t,” Henry snorted, laying back. Johan lay down atop him, the animator rubbing circles into the artist’s back as they gazed at each other in comfortable quiet. “Remember when she almost burnt down the studio?”

“With Linda’s help, nonetheless,” Joey giggled softly. “Those girls had no idea what mayhem they were about to cause. All that ink-- and in a wooden studio, no less!”

“Then Barley and Charlie flooding the stairs--”

“To row down!”

“And the cat incident!”

“I’ve never seen Boris lose his mind so much over a kitten,” Joey laughed aloud. “He was so confused, poor lad.”

“Well, it was running around with a white towel over its head, of course he would think it’s a ghost,” Henry added. “He went absolutely bonkers over it.”

“Mhm,” Joey hummed, eyes sparkling. “Henry?”

“Yes, Joey?”

“Are you… afraid of growing up?”

“What am I, Peter Pan?” Henry inquired, making Joey giggle. “Are you?”

“I’ve been thinking about it,” Joey replied. “And I was.”

“Sounds like you aren’t any more.”

“How can I be afraid with the world by my side?” Joey responded with a shrug and a smile. He leaned closer to Henry to whisper, “With  _ my _ world by my side.”

There was a sudden flurry in Henry’s chest, a thousand raccoons rubbing their grubby little hands over every single neural response to make him feel like he was having butterflies in his lungs and air in his heart, with his stomach pumping, his brain absolutely bamboozled by this strange influx of information, and Henry realized then that while he might not be getting any younger, this intimacy would always remain as fresh as the day it initiated. 

He could hardly tell when they started kissing again, eyes closed and lips still, breathing quiet and gentle in the proximity of the other’s very molecular spheres. It was nothing if not comfort in its very essence, and within, Henry could let go of his fears and think of them properly.

“We’re going to get treatment for you,” he promised in the darkness of his closed eyes. “I’ll do it myself if that’s what it comes to. Even if it’s in a field far away from my own, I’ll learn about it inside and out to make sure you’ll come out on top. You’re a fighter, and I need you to fight for me, so I can help you stoke your fire.”

“I accept,” Joey mumbled, half asleep. Seizures were draining, and he was tired, and would finish his food at a later time. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Nap eventually completed, both men brushed their hair and teeth for the second time after rising that day to make themselves presentable to the general public. Joey completed his twice reheated pepper, glad that Henry had good kitchen skills so as to warm it without ruining it. 

“Are you glad Nagasaki’s bomb didn’t go off?” 

“Hm?” Joey looked up from his food, and then returned to it within the moment. “Let’s merely say-” 

He looked around and, dissatisfied with his search, beckoned Henry to come closer to listen to him. 

“There are certain design flaws intentionally laid,” he whispered, lips twitching. “The internal mechanism of the bomb itself is destroyed, so it c-cannot be recreated by enemy forces- though there aren’t any, anymore, unless you count Russia- yet it did not go off properly. How… very interesting.”

Henry’s stare widened as he realized what Joey’s words meant. 

That smile on Johan’s face grew. 

“Such…  _ dangerous _ knowledge.”

“You’re a superhero,” Henry told him point blank. “I… I wouldn’t’ve had the guts. Not with so many other scientists there. Not with the government breathing down my neck.”

“Ahh, but Henry,” Joey smiled just a tad wider, eyes slitting. “The trick is understanding that. Knowing the human psyche, it can be easily determined that no one would have… and therefore, no one can be to blame. Because no one did such a thing. Sabotage simply was not anything anyone was brave enough to commit, you see? What a pity that such a terrible weapon neutralized itself.”

“You’re too smart,” Henry complained, folding his arms. “It’s not fair. Save some brain for the rest of us simple folk.”

Johan snorted, finishing his meal with a shake of his head. 

“Ready to go to the science fair?”

“Yeah, are you?” Henry took Joey’s hand, and the man nodded with a smile. “You know, Eleanor used to hate science fairs-- she’d bribe me to do it for her.”

“Oh? How’d that work, my dear?” 

Henry did not answer, and his ears turned a little red. 

“Ray, if you--”

“No, not what you’re thinking,” Henry quickly assured him. “It was… I liked the magazines with home services, and recipes, but you know. I didn’t want to ask my parents for them, or buy them myself. Eleanor had a subscription, and she would switch the covers to some motor magazine. It made it much easier to read during breaks.”

“You’re such a dork, Dr. Stein,” Johan laughed. Henry nudged him, and declared; “I’m a great chef, though. Dork or not, I don’t care too much as long as I can whip up a fantastic meal.”

“Would you do so for our red ribbon?”

“For the studio afterwards, maybe,” Henry hummed thoughtfully. “Only if you help.”

“You have a deal, darling.”

Alice and Barley’s project was on the buoyancy of a life preserver, and whether or not the circular shape was the best way to save someone from drowning. Johan particularly liked this project, his bias rather obvious. He did, however, refuse to assist them in creating the device, as he wanted them to do it without any shortcuts, and that included his own know-how of physics. Besides, children had such a unique way of looking at things, and Joey absolutely did not want to infringe or marr the possible outcome in any way. 

The outcome was an ultra buoyant material made from the bees’ wax, using the honeycomb structure to maintain solid bubbles of air within the device. The wax was waterproof, repelling away the saline mixture of the ocean, and therefore having a much longer lifespan than the wooden preservers. They found that it naturally formed into the honeycomb’s shape, and reasoned that many life preservers could be linked together to form a platform for rafts and other floatation bases.

Henry and Joey marveled at the brilliant idea, though they were not allowed to see it until that night, since their children wanted them to be awed. The other kids had not signed up for the fair, but helped test and create the wax preserver (name in progress, Alice would remind them as she sketched out the design for a patent). Entering the school, Joey’s hand itched for a mask to cover his face, many eyes on him. He tried to remind himself that it was just because of his height, that it was because of his hair, that it was because he was Joey Drew. Not because of anything else, and even if it was, why should he care? He smiled and took Henry’s hand to solidify himself in the present. 

Barley greeted them with a big, missing toothed grin. 

Alice was grinning even wider, her eyes shining. 

“Look,” she gestured at their project with a flourish, “At what we got.”

“Is that a blue ribbon?” Henry asked, not out of shock, but out of pride. Johan noted how similar Henry’s smile was to Barley’s, lilting a bit to the left. “Brilliant. I knew you two could do it, and see how well you pulled it off! Absolutely brilliant.”

It was difficult for Joey to express his happiness for his children. Heartfelt words came to him, all mulled over and cast aside in search of something bigger and better, until words no longer seemed to make any sense at all in his head, and he realized that they did not. He did not think he could say anything if he tried with all his might, these thoughts a feeling and emotion rather than the words that I am putting them into. 

However, Joey knew that there were other ways to communicate his joy and love.

He knelt and hugged Alice and Barley, trying his damndest not to cry. 

Maybe the family would go out to ice cream after this. In any case, after rising and furtively wiping at his eyes, he signaled to Henry. The doctor, immediately understanding, took his hand once more and apologized to the kids, letting them know that they would be right back. Henry, as Joey’s vision pulsed faster, led the man carefully into a different room, helping him lay down. There was deep worry in his eyes, and that was the last thing Joey saw before his mind turned to nothingness. 

The next thing Joey saw was that same worried face, and the relief that spread over it was absolutely beautiful to behold, though his heart panged as he knew he was the cause of the initial fear. 

“How are you?” Henry asked, running a hand through his hair. “Want to go back to the kids, or should we head home?”

‘I am good,’ Joey informed him with a blink and a smile. He took Henry’s hand. ‘Come on. To the kids.’

* * *

“Oh Susie, I just don’t know what he’s thinking sometimes,” Joey sighed as she adjusted the hem of the dress suit. “I love him to bits and pieces, but he punched one of the parents at the science fair when they made a comment t-towards us. Surely he must understand that to lay low one must, well,  _ behave _ in a manner that is acceptable in society. Of course, there is the fact of the cere-- ouch!”

“Sorry, Jo,” Susie apologized, removing the pin as soon as it accidentally poked his side. “I know you’re nervous, but Dr. Stein can handle himself quite well. If he punched a parent, well, maybe they deserved it. Probably. Henry and justice get along like apples and pie. That’s the way he is. By any chance, do you remember what that comment was?”

“Oh, er,” Johan darkened, avoiding Susie’s gaze. “N-No, I don’t quite recall.”

“Joey.”

“Okay, yes, it was something rather rude and distasteful,” he confessed, “But it wasn’t anything out of the norm when one would see two men-- ow!”

“Maybe Henry was trying to  _ change _ that. Changing the norm,” she fixed an adjustment. Looking over her handiwork, she met Joey’s eyes. “To make one that is better.”

“Ah yes, fist fights at an elementary school’s science fair, absolutely b-brilliant,” Joey dryly remarked. “Next thing you know that’s how they’ll solve matters in court, like Summer’s caning, and you-- ai! You’re poking me on p-purpose now, aren’t you?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Susie replied as she kept her gaze away to hide her grin. Johan gave a slight scowl before growing silent. It was almost as though something was bothering him, but Susie decided to let him simmer on it a moment longer before speaking again. “Are you nervous?”

“Me? Nervous? Ha!” 

“Sounds like someone hasn’t met himself,” Susie retorted. “You might be the most nervous person I have ever met in my entire life.”

“Susie, I think I’m more worried about losing my mind than this,” he told her with complete honesty. “And for the record, I do think I’m going off the deep end slowly but surely.”

“Oh, come on now--”

“I can’t remember when we met.”

Susie stopped suddenly, and put down her sewing materials.

“What do you mean by that? It was rather remarkable, you with your long hair.”

“See here, I don’t… I d-don’t know what you’re talking about,” Johan sighed, looking away and sitting down, the fabric of the dress suit puffing around him stiffly due to the starch. “It was somewhere having to do with textiles. I know that, at least. But… I don’t remember when, or where. My first clear memory of you is in the studio. When I offered you the position of Alice, when Henry and I opened positions for external workers. I don’t think I even remembered you then, simply had some vague recognition, maybe. But I don’t think so.”

Susie sat next to him, her shoulders falling a bit.

“Is this… something new?”

“I couldn’t remember Shawn, even though he and I knew each other in childhood,” Johan whispered, tucking his knees up. “Grant insists that we met years ago. Almost everyone here claims that I met them before I made ‘Joey Drew’ a persona. And yet,” he gave a halfhearted, self mocking shrug. “I can’t remember any of them. Tell me, Susie, did we meet in a textile shop? I remember dresses and rough fabric, the smell of fire and cold snow. I remember seeing a bloated figure above the ground, and I remember feeling relief and ground moving under my feet. What are those things, my f-friend? What does it mean?” he looked at her once more. “Does it mean anything at all? Is it just my insanity?”

“We did… meet in a textile factory,” Susie confirmed slowly, taking his hand. “The person who owned the place… Mr. Rempel. He was a brute, and he kept everyone who worked for him in wage slavery.”

“The name is familiar,” Joey nodded. “Go on. How did we meet?”

“So, Mr. Rempel would only hire women,” Susie twirled a lock of her hair. “You had confided in me that you hoped that he would not see past your disguise, which was a simple dress, being that you had long hair at the time, long enough to cover your face. But he sniffed you out, the bulldog he was.”

“Why was I there at all? Surely I could have found other work.”

“It was winter, and the industry had dormitories,” Susie explained. “And safety. Meals. A paycheck, however small it was. You knew that getting a job there meant that you would be safe until the weather would get better.”

“But he was able to tell I wasn’t a girl,” Joey pointed out. Susie nodded. He squinted in confusion, nose wrinkling ever so slightly. “Then how did I get in?”

“He accepted you on the condition you not cut your hair and keep wearing the dresses that you would be provided with,” Susie told him, searching his face for any form of recognition. “You were to be his personal servant, and he wouldn’t kick you out.”

“Ah,” Johan replied, paled. “He sounds like a, er, creep.”

“He very much was,” Susie agreed with him. “Also towards the girls. But, he thought you were… funny.”

“Hilarious,” Johan muttered. “So how did you and I meet?”

“I worked for him as well,” she said, giving his hand a squeeze. “I made you a dress. Just like I am now.”

Joey closed his eyes, and let muscle memory guide him.

He stood, and he was a little scared. Would he be safe? His arms moved to allow the little lady access to her work. In and out, her pins went. Long hair. He remembered cold air biting his hands, cold fear biting his heart. He had asked around, and the location was pointed out to him by a farmer who took pity on him but had no work that he could do. The farmer warned him about the man’s cruel tendencies, though, and gave him a dress of his daughter’s that no longer fit her. It slipped over his thin frame well, though it was a bit short, it worked fine enough to hide his gender.

He brushed his hair and made sure he looked presentable, smoothed the hem of his skirt and did vocal exercises to keep his voice high, though his pitch breaking nervousness seemed to do that all on its own. Things seemed to be going along without any problems, he curtseying to the secretary and applying for the position, and he was given a week to prove himself before becoming an official employee, though he was given a contract for that week as well, which relieved some measure of stress from his mind. That meant that he could leave and retain his pay. He kept it carefully hidden in his belt, the leather scratched yet secure. Johan worried over the fraying end, and reasoned that he would be able to stitch it up at work. 

Work, in and of itself, was good. It was intense with few breaks, but that was the way he needed it, and even gave up his own breaks to do work for the other girls, in hopes to endear himself to them. However he kept his head down and spoke softly, avoiding their gazes. He worked.  _ It _ , his plan, was working so far. Payment, food, and dorm. Work.

Day in, day out. Silently. Steadfast. Needle in, needle out. Focus. Remain distant. One of the girls took a liking to him, and spent the long hours beside him, chatting gossip about all the others, about their boss (which tipped him off to what sort of brute he was dealing with), about the food and pay. She had shown him around the facility, and he thanked her quietly. 

Johan found himself dreading the end of the week. He was terrified to lose this position. The tales he heard of Mr. Rempel frightened him, but he knew that his choices were to either face him and potentially lose the job, or not face him and certainly lose it. He steeled himself to approach the man’s office at the week’s end.

Johan’s eyes opened.

“They hung him in the town square,” he whispered. “The girls, their fathers found out how they were being treated and they lynched him.”

“They found out because we all wrote home about you,” Susie sighed. “We thought that the way he treated you was outrageous, but it turned out the way he was treating all of us was awful. The town demanded that he change his practices, and he refused. So they stormed his office, and yes, they did lynch him.”

“Goddamn,” Johan snorted, a laugh bubbling from his throat. “I just… it makes perfect s-sense, and it, at the same time, is so absolutely, completely, and utterly insane.”

“Isn’t that how everything having to do with you is?” Susie questioned in a teasing tone, glad to see he took it well. “But still, everything just falls right into place. Can you remember anything else?”

“A few things, but it’s still rather fuzzy,” Joey admitted. “Kinda like listening to Mr. Sandman over the radio in your dreams.”

“...” Susie replied, raising a brow, her lips twitching into a smile. 

“You know what I mean, right?”

“Well, I guess I do,” she replied. “Did you pick that because Henry sings it all the time?”

“He picked it up from me,” he corrected softly, “I sang it to Linda as a lullabye. She liked holding my face when I would do the introductory bums. I think the vibrations soothed her.”

“How old was she, then?”

“Three. Little, little Linda,” he grew wistful. “Now she’s so big… having a girlfriend, in college….”

She gave him a tissue with which he could wipe his eyes.

“Now I’m going to be her father by law, too.”

“Excited?”

“Oh, goodness, ‘excited’ doesn’t even begin to cover it, my dear friend,” Johan giggled, still dabbing at his eyes. “Anticipatory.”

“Ah yes, Mr. Drew’s ‘favorite word’ coming back into play,” Susie laughed, and he made an expression of total offence, brow furrowing and mouth opening to retort something or the other. She hushed him by poking him with the needle again, which worked instantaneously. “It’s rather adorable.”

“Adorable?” he asked, his brow furrowing, and then arching into a sharp point. “Adorable?! I am a seven and a half foot co-CEO of a massive animation company, who got through hell and back to build this place from the ground up, and still! My favorite word is considered ‘adorable’! Who in hell decided that the word ‘anticipatory’ is  _ adorable _ ?!”

“Oh, yes,” Susie reached up to poke his nose. “You might be a grown man, Joey, but you can still be one of the cutest and sweetest people I’ve ever had the absolute pleasure to meet.”

Her eyes went wide as arms snapped around her, a head was pressed to her shoulder and curled dark hair meshing with her pale waves. She inhaled and then exhaled slowly, wrapping Joey into the hug. One of Susie’s hands brushed through his hair, soothing him as he shook with emotion. He wore his heart on his sleeve, on his chest, and Susie could feel it pressed to her own dress, the pin much warmer than it appeared to be at first glance.

The two remained hugging and holding for a few minutes, neither speaking, and the silence felt good to rest in. Time was moving so fast, Susie thought to herself. She and Allison were not planning on marrying in any conventional way, as they already considered themselves such, and decided that no paperwork was necessary. Still, seeing Joey prepare himself for a marriage of his own, young Joey who was so reckless and volatile in the past, now firm and steadfast, it reminded her of a great and ancient beauty, inexplicable and awe striking, with a deep love hidden beneath waves of knowledge and seas of information and life. 

“I’m so proud of you,” Susie told him in a soft voice, her eyes still closed in the moment. “I love you.”

“I love you too, mi ángel, mi amiga,” Johan whispered back, hugging her fiercely. “You’ve always been here f-for me during my turbulence, and you’ve always stood up for me, and t-tried your best to do whatever you c-could. I love you, so much, Susie. Thank you, I love you.”

They stayed like that for a long time.

***

“How was your appointment?” Henry asked Johan, trying to smile. It was a bit difficult when the man looked so exhausted and drained. “Did something happen?”

“They think they’ve spotted an anomaly, but they’re not sure,” Joey groaned, sinking into the bed. Henry’s fingers began working out the knots of tension in the man’s back. “Oh, thank you… that feels absolutely heavenly. Speaking of heaven, Susie’s done her lines for the next episode, and all we’re waiting on is Wally for his. Should we get a new j-janitor so that he could focus more on voicing?” 

“Pft, no,” Henry snorted. “Wally himself said that he likes the breaks, and that the gig works for him. Why change a good system? He wouldn’t like being cut from hours, you know. Plus, after all, he doesn’t have nearly as many lines as Susie and Allison do, so there’s a big difference there. And besides all that, it’s basically Willy that keeps Wally in line, so if we let him off the hook we’re going to be pretty screwed over.”

“You’re right,” Joey nodded, his words falling into a low hum. It took some time for him to speak again. When he did, it was clear why, returning to the initial conversation hesitantly. “They think I might have a problem in my nervous system.”

Henry’s hands froze on his back.

That would be a big problem.

“That it could… it could be deteriorating. Like the muscle loss I experienced, but slower. Much slower. The doctors speculated that it even started at the same time. But they are still debating if that is what this issue is.”

“Let’s hope not,” Henry muttered, pulling him into his arms. A wheelchair flashed in his mind, and he winced and grimaced. He did not want to see Joey falling apart, not again. It took a lot of physical therapy for him to be able to be as mobile as he was, especially considering the toll that… the machine, and the bridge, took on him. Henry fought a cringe as part of his mind blamed himself. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Johan told him, turning around and slinking his arms around him. He smiled at him, and that smile was beautiful. “It’ll all be okay in the end.”

Henry, unable to think of any words to say, held a hand behind Joey’s neck and leaned to kiss him. 

Six children came crashing through their door and leapt onto their bed, each talking over the other. Johan found himself swarmed by four, now flat on the bed again with Edgar making himself comfortable on his chest, playing with his pin. Alice was next to him, and Boris was on his legs, Charley still debating with Bendy, who was in Henry’s arms, beside Barley who did not seem to give a flying monkey about the situation at hand. Henry and Johan looked at each other, a bit surprised, though not much.

“The universe detests you, my dearest Ray of sunshine.”

***

Shawn frowned as he made an adjustment. Something was not fitting into the right slot at all, and he looked over at the blue prints again. Surely he was doing it all correctly, he had done it twice before. Picking the toy up, he could tell what was wrong now. It was much lighter than it should have been, causing him to raise an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a half grimace, half grin. Edgar and Charley had been here earlier in the day, and knowing Charley, the little bugger must have stolen the internal mechanism. 

He went upstairs to catch him, but was unable to find him, so he went to the break room to check if anyone had seen the rapscallion. However, when he entered the room, he was startled by the sight of Willy talking with a man he did not recognize, seeming to be giving him directions. The man thanked him with a charismatic smile, walking off wherever he intended to go. 

“What was that all about?” Shawn asked him, taking his round hand. Willy shrugged, still baffled. “Never seen him before, did he mention his name?”

“Yeah, but I’m sure it’s utter bs,” he replied. “Claimed he was called ‘Atlas’, was looking for Joey. Said he met him in the army. I sent him to Henry.”

“Good idea,” Shawn laughed. “If he’s trouble, he’ll eat pavement, if he’s not, he’ll get the door!”

“Very true!” Willy guffawed along, passing to him a light beer, taking an iced tea for himself. “Dr. Stein is a mighty possessive fellow, and remember Joey’s real army friend?”

“Hessiah?” Shawn asked for confirmation, and Willy nodded. “Ooh, yes. Henry stuck around Joey like a bear with his honey.”

“Always holding his hand and him!”

“Joey looked like he ate a live bee when Henry tried to challenge Hessiah to a fist fight! Our little Henry, he of average height, trying to size up this guy with a linebacker build!”

“It was pretty hilarious,” Willy wiped his eyes from mirth. “Oh, I would love to see Henry’s face.”

“Speaking of see, have you seen Charley? Kleptomaniac stole a mechanism for a toy.”

“Uh, music department?”

Charley was found hiding in the tuba, and Sammy was none too happy about having practice delayed.

Willy and Shawn laughed at the lad’s expression as he sulked with a trumpet, indoctrinated due to his behavior. 

* * *

It was rather ironic that Charley ended up liking the trumpet so much that he asked Sammy if he could keep it, or at least borrow it. He wanted to play it by the opening of BendyLand that week. Practicing was able to be heard from the kids’ room for the next few days, and the boy was actually rather good at the instrument.

Everyone in their family was anticipatory for the event, though some were more on the nervous scale whereas others were more on the excited side. This dichotomy was even obvious with Joey and Henry, with Johan more nervous and Henry more excited, naturally, though they both shared the emotions. 

Everyone did. It was a sensation that filled the entire area. Henry and Johan worked on spreading the word around, requesting that news reporters not bring flash photography to the opening ceremony, though they could have it throughout the rest of the park. In replying to some companies asking to cover the news, Johan froze and tapped Henry’s shoulder. 

“They’re asking if they could put us on live television,” he told him, a strange lilt in his tone, uncertainty grasping him. “On one hand, oh, that would b-be exciting. But on the other… that would make the whole thing even more n-nerve wracking.”

“Say yes,” Henry told him before signing the approval himself. “Joey. This is big. Live broadcast-- you know they record those, too, you know. We’d be able to watch it ourselves after. Man, that’s something special, don’t you think?”

“I suppose,” Johan mused, adding a note of approval before putting it in the pile for Daniel to take around to the proper stations. “I guess I’m just nervous.”

“You’re always nervous,” Henry teased, and then suddenly stopped, rushing over to where Joey had collapsed and immediately took off his tie and glasses, setting him on his side. He already had been counting in his head, and a disorienting calm had settled deep in his chest. The seizures were becoming normalized, as was working through them. Retaining a healthy diet and sleep schedule helped somewhat with the matter, but of course, they did not leave. Some time while Henry had been ruminating, Johan’s eyes opened slowly enough to be unnoticed, and the first thing he saw was Henry’s love and concern. His heart, already pumping fast, pounded harder, his breathing hitching all over again, and he flung himself off the floor and onto the man, kissing his cheeks and brow before pressing his lips to Henry’s mouth. Henry, though startled at first, wrapped Joey into his arms and reciprocated, leaning forward gradually until they both were on the floor. Henry could feel Joey’s legs wrapped around him, pulling him closer. “You’re so damn hot. Wait, Johan, are you feeling okay?”

“More than okay,” Johan told him, his voice breathless but happy. “I’m in love. Goodness, Henry, just shut up and kiss me, won’t you?”

“But I need to compliment you!” Henry protested, but busied his mouth onto Johan’s neck instead, biting gently and pulling Johan’s hands away when the man tried to get him to stop, giggling whenever Henry’s scruff would tickle him. Henry nipped at Joey’s ear, able to feel the slight indication of his piercing. “Why don’t you ever wear earrings, Jo? You look cute with them, handsome, beautiful.”

“Oh, Henry, you shameless flatterer,” Joey scolded. “I wear them on special occasions. And no, I won’t wear them to the opening, but perhaps the after party.”

“I want to make the whole world jealous,” Henry murmured, slipping his hands under Johan’s shirt, and Joey’s legs crossed tighter, his head leaning back out of reflex. Henry obliged him, and then, face to face, he asked him; “How can you get me like this so fast? You can just flick your fingers and I’m on my knees. But heaven help me if I don’t love it. I want to… it’s hard to even think. I want to do whatever you want me to do with you."

“Kiss me, then,” Joey told him, though his voice wavered. Henry gently pulled him into the kiss, staying with his fiance pressed to the floor beneath him for a few minutes that flew by like nanoseconds but felt like eternity. Henry smiled as he moved away, adoring the way Joey’s eyelids fluttered and the warmth emanating from his cheeks. “H-Henry, er, can you kiss me….”

“French kiss you?” Henry finished for him, Joey nodding with his blush deepening. “I’d love to, darling.”

The sounds Johan made were angel’s choirs on earth. Whimpers and whines, but most importantly sighs and gasps, signs of his happiness and pleasure. Henry devoured them all, trying to draw as many as he possibly could from him, running his tongue on the sharp canines and incisors of Joey’s maw, savoring the taste of the man, always of honey and cinnamon, the taste of home, the feeling of desire and comfort and  _ right.  _ It felt so right. It was so right. They were dichomatic, basheretim in their own right. It was right, and good, and happy. 

It was alright when they snapped apart at the sound of the front door suddenly slamming open, Linda and Marina engaged in a similar action. Henry laughed as Johan gasped, darkening even more, appearing to be in the midst of an attempt to summon a black hole to their home with only the power of his fluster and localize it within his face. 

“Linda!” 

“What?! You’re literally on the floor with Dad on top of you!” she defended as Marina kissed all over her face. “And besides, we’ve moved further in  _ our _ physical relationship than you two have!”

“She has a point, you know,” Henry cheekily added. “You girls have fun, Johan’s gonna have another crisis in a second.”

“I hate that she’s right,” Joey muttered, pouting as they went to Linda’s room. “Why did you let them, anyways? They’re not married yet! Not even engaged!”

“Oh, you and your celibacy until marriage, not everyone can handle themselves like you do,” Henry rolled his eyes and returned to kissing him. “Besides, you know that you’d love to let me ravage you just as much as the next guy.”

“I have  _ dignity _ ,” Joey proclaimed, his hair a mess, shirt half undone, tie on the floor, and legs still around Henry’s waist. “I will not be  _ ravaged _ like anyone else. I will be ravished. And if not, then you’ll be thrown out of my bed, yet consumed by lust, feeling naught but your own shame and regret.”

“Damn it Johan,” Henry laughed, unable to contain himself. “Did you just say that if I don’t please you, then you’ll toss me onto the couch?”

“Perhaps.”

“Ooh, you sure you’ll be able to keep to those words?” Henry asked with a massive grin. “Because I know you wouldn’t be able to  _ walk _ , let alone throw me anywhere. Besides, I can just lay on top of you, like this--”

“Dear heavens, get off! My bones are not made for holding anything more than spaghetti limbs!” Johan wheezed, now scrambling in an attempt to escape, managing to get onto his stomach, but unable to move very far with Henry holding onto his back like a koala. “You are a ball of osmium, get off! I can feel my lungs collapsing!”

“You are now a snail, and I am your shell.”

“You are a goddamn  _ boulder! _ ”

“Of love!”

“Of pain!”

Johan inhaled deeply as Henry vanished from his back, and then he shrieked as the man picked him up with ease and tossed him over his shoulder, laughing when the man wriggled in another escape attempt that would fail. 

“YOU ABSOLUTE BARBARIAN!” Joey accused, still trying to wrest himself free as Henry picked up the stack of letters and carried him to the door. “I will not be manhandled like a sack of potatoes!”

“Not a sack of potatoes, you’re lighter than that,” Henry mused. Johan gasped in affront, his mouth falling open. “Like a handful of gumballs.”

“You- you are so rude!” Joey sputtered, still trying to escape, Henry blocking him off at every squirm. “Where are you taking me?”

“Pub room,” he remarked with a grin, feeling Joey hide his face in Henry’s hair. “So that everyone can see what a wiggly bean I snagged for myself.”

“Wiggly bean! How can you be so insulting towards your fiance!?” Joey bemoaned, and Henry kissed his temple in a minute resolution. “I am a--”

“Ferret.”

“I AM NOT A FERRET!”

***

Joey and Henry tied the red ribbon to the gates. Neither were smiling, but neither were sad. It was ethereal, like a dream. Some reporters came early, one intrepid youngster asking Joey if he could share his favorite childhood snack, which was such a pleasant and surprising change of events that Johan decided to grant them an interview for their happy go lucky attitude. The answer was in fact, churros, which he and his mother would make together sometimes, the happy memory adding to the taste of sweet cinnamon to pull it to his favorite. To this day, he would make churros with Boris, who found culinary arts one of the more fascinating topics on earth. The interviewer complimented Joey’s ring, asking where he got it from. Joey bit his lip and looked away, and told them that such information would be readily available soon.

Sammy’s music was a hit, too, playing neither too loud nor too quiet around the park, and the man, along with the rest of the music department, were at their own area, giving small lessons and playing their instruments for the hell of it, laughing and excited. Bertrum was swamped with people, and trying to fend them off with curt, clearly English replies did not help in reducing the crowd. Lacie simply laughed at him and popped cotton candy into hir mouth, savoring the fluster that was evident on Bertrum’s expression, and only rescued him by marching through the crowd and dispersing it hirself when it was time for the opening in and of itself. 

“No flash photography,” she boomed, and several people swapped their cameras. The central clock chimed twelve, and it all grew eerily, spellbindingly, silent. 

Cameras were changed, and a news group signaled that they were live on air. Johan spotted that exchange, and pulled away from the mass of people, suddenly nervous all over again. Henry patted his arm, looking to him with a smile.

“Are you ready?”

“Not in the slightest. Let’s do this.”

They walked up to the gates, and they could hear cameras going off, and the quiet whirl of film. Eyes were on them, even those who were not there in the present or physically.

“Hello everyone, I hope you’re all having a good day so far!” Henry took the lead, beaming and charismatic, the sunlight reflected by his hair and dancing on the strawberry pink curls. “A grand opening of the first cartoon based theme park in america, ay? I’d say something to Mr. Disney over in California, but not only are there children here, but we’re live on air! So, Mr. Disney, if you’re watching, maybe try something instead of lobotomy to undercut the competition. How about framing our dear Mr. Drew here for murder-- oh wait, you tried that already.”

That earned a round of applause and laughter, even from the representative sent by the California based cartoon company, who hid his snicker in his soda.

“Now, I’m not here to waste your time with anecdotes to the past, because the future is now, and there’s no time like the present!” Henry assured them. “But I will say this, to everyone here and anyone watching. Never give up on your dreams. Sixteen years ago, Joey Drew did not exist. His name was Johan Ramirez. He worked odd jobs that didn’t pay well. Hell, no one was paid well. And it took him a year, but he got from the middle of our humble American desert to New York City. He also wasn’t paid well there, but then again, who was?”

Another laugh. Joey looked at Henry, still silently gripping his cane. Henry turned to him, and asked, “What was your job here, in New York?”

“I worked at a printing press,” Joey replied. “I nearly lost my hand a few times there, but it’s a good thing I didn’t. Because I love drawing, and it wouldn’t be nearly as much fun doing it with my teeth. There I animated during my breaks, though I never would have believed to come so far. The original animation of tombstone picnic is here, in this park, in the records district, if anyone is interested. After I created it, I realized, this was what I wanted to do. I wanted to animate and create a show that could be enjoyed by anyone. I wasn’t given any grants, or loans. No one would give me any. So, as a reminder, and as a spark of hope, we’re pleased to announce not only the opening of BendyLand, but the creation of the ‘Dreams Come to Life’ foundation. Children and teenagers, as well as ambitious and imaginative adults, can pitch an idea to the foundation, and resources will be provided, as well as advisors, a team of people who are in need of work, providing jobs and connections. We hope that this will encourage the young minds of our communities and help foster a stronger tie between peoples.”

After some stunned silence, there was a burst of applause. 

“Did you know about this?” Allison asked Susie in a whisper, staring at the two men by the gate as she clapped in shock. Susie shook her head, just as surprised; “I had no idea.”

Henry rose a hand, and the cheering and clapping died down.

“There is one more thing that Joey and I would like to announce,” he said, picking up his welding tool that he had learned to use. “So stick around after the opening to hear it.”

Johan lifted his own welder, and the two tapped the nozzles together before donning the protective masks. Johan delicately seared the word “Bendy” while Henry added “Land”. When the cherry red metal above the gate cooled, they each took a part of the comically large scissors, everyone watching with bated breath as they both--

Pulled away, preventing the other from cutting. They both laughed at each other, and then, Shawn started a countdown, hollering loud and clear. 

Henry and Johan looked at each other in anticipation.

Ten. Nine. Eight. 

The world seemed to slow.

Seven. Six. Five.

Their eyes were locked on one another. 

Four. Three. Two.

They were grinning.

One.

Snip.

And Joey, no matter how many times they talked about it while animating together, no matter how many times they whispered about it at night, no matter how many times he and Henry planned this event, still could not get the shock out of his racing mind.

Because then, the duo had let go of the scissors, letting them clatter to the ground, as Henry wrapped an arm around his middle to slide him into a dip, dress shoes smoothly passing over the gravel, his own arms wrapping over Henry’s shoulders as they kissed on live television. 

Joey could hear gasps, but they were so far away, and he was in heaven. Their kiss was chaste and sweet, full of love and adoration, and the clicks of cameras were like cricket chirps on a starlit evening, though the moment was a sunny noon. 

They came apart slowly, and Joey willed himself to not look at the crowd so as to not induce his anxiety any further. Henry, still smiling, smiled a bit softer and pressed another kiss to his lips before helping him stand upright.

“We wanted to announce our engagement,” Henry said, in a way that was not loud, yet heard by everyone. “In a way that would be remembered.”

“Hard to forget something like that!” someone in the crowd piped up, breaking the shell shocked participants out of their dazes. “Congratulations!” 

A chorus of agreement came all around, surprising Johan and Henry, who half expected to be lynched on the spot. 

“It’s about time!” Oppenheimer commented. 

“Um, so, please,” Joey stammered, flustered and still trying to wrap his head around what had transpired. “We are taking questions, but implore you all to be respectful. If you, like me, are too shocked by the events, go around and have fun at the park. The games and rides are all ready for anyone to enjoy and Henry and I will be strolling around as well.”

The two walked through the gates, holding hands, and were followed in by the mass of people. The reporter who had interviewed Joey earlier bounded up like a jackrabbit, excitedly pointing at Joey’s ring. 

“So is that your engagement ring?” they inquired. Johan nodded, smiling and glancing down at the sapphire gem. “Does Mr- I mean, Dr. Stein have one too?”

“Yep,” Henry replied, showing it off. “Turquoise and diamond.”

“Mind if I snap a picture of both together?” they asked hopefully, eyes glistening. Joey and Henry glanced at each other, and then placed their hands together so that both rings could be seen. “Gosh, what a handsome set! What a handsome couple! I can’t wait to write about this!”

Once the pair was freed from the mob of questions that had come upon them, Henry noticed Joey looking wistfully at one of the rides. 

“You want to go on the ferris wheel?” Henry nudged him softly. Johan glanced at him and nodded. “Then let’s go!”

The BendyLand ferris wheel was one of Bertrum’s prouder achievements. It consisted of four ferris wheels merged as one, with three smaller internal ones and a larger external. That was the one Henry and Joey went onto. 

In the clouds, they were on top of the world, and two of the happiest people in the universe. 


End file.
